


Madam Mayor

by vivilove



Series: Career Day Romance [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fire Chief Jon, Mayor Sansa, Modern Westeros, Political Scandal, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-01-07 16:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12236754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: When she was younger, Sansa Stark had never planned on becoming Mayor of Winterfell...and she certainly never planned on ever becoming the subject of a sex scandal with her Fire Chief.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Descend_N2_Madness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descend_N2_Madness/gifts).



> This work is gifted to Descend_N2_Madness. Thanks for the suggestion, dude!
> 
> I set this in Westeros since I don't claim an abundance of knowledge regarding a mayor's duties and what have you. So, please just go with it!

Heat flooded her cheeks the moment Sansa emerged from the interior of the office building. She’d been meeting with the owner of Martell, Inc. who was looking to open a new factory in Winterfell when she received Jeyne’s text.

**Jeyne: Someone got pics of you two. The shit has officially hit the fan.**

**Sansa: What kind of pics?**

**Jeyne: The kind you wouldn’t want your mom to see. The kind that tell me neither of you go to the gym just to socialize.**

The cameras flashing in her face were more like strobe lights and Sansa raised a hand over her brow to shield her unprotected eyes. She felt hemmed in on all sides as Brienne tried valiantly to usher her towards the waiting Town Car through the mob of journalists. Everywhere around her people, most of whom she’d never met, shouted her name.

 

_Mayor Stark!_

_Madam Mayor!_

_Sansa!_

 

She wanted to cringe and hide but she stood tall. She was a Stark after all. She plastered on her mask of courteous but distant formality and calmly followed in Brienne’s wake. She wondered if this was what it felt like to be a celebrity. Somehow, she didn’t think this was quite the same though.

 

_“Is it true you and Chief Snow are having an affair, Madam Mayor?”_

_“Have you seen the pictures that have been released?”_

_“Is that why you appointed Jon Snow as Fire Chief over Alliser Thorne?”_

_“How long have you been sleeping together, Mayor Stark?”_

_“Where do you normally have sex, Sansa? The fire station or the mayor’s office?”_

_“Have you checked out all of his equipment, Sansa? How does his hose measure up?”_

_“Will the chief be making another late-night inspection at your residence, Sansa?”_

 

She could see Brienne visibly bristling as the questions got more and more vulgar. Sansa was shaking by the time they reached the car. Jaime got out from the backseat to help her inside before giving Bronn the signal to drive off.

Sansa crawled into the back and smoothed down her skirt. She wanted to curl up in a ball and sob. Instead, she sat primly with her ankles crossed and gazed out the window as if she couldn’t see the press of faces and cameras trying to peer through the dark tinted windows. Jaime and Brienne were settled across from her and exchanging a concerned look. Sansa pretended not to see.

 _Oh, Jon. I’m so sorry_ , she thought sadly as she wondered if he had been waylaid at the station yet.

“Where to, Madam Mayor?” Bronn asked from the front seat.

“Take her home,” Brienne answered for her.

“No,” Sansa said coming out of her gloomy reverie. “City Hall, please. There’s still plenty of daylight left and work to do.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Six Months Earlier**

 

Sansa Stark never planned on being mayor of Winterfell. She’d never planned on launching a political career at all. Once she’d imagined she might someday adorn the arm of a politician back when she was a silly, little girl and enamored of Joffrey Baratheon whose father was Minister of Westeros at the time. But that was ages ago.

Her own excellent father had held an important post in Kings Landing briefly under Joffrey’s father but Ned Stark was as honest as the day is long and not well suited to the nest of vipers masquerading as civil servants in the capitol. And so, he returned home after a little over a year away and his daughter returned with him a bit older and wiser having seen the seedier side of both politics and Joffrey.

Her father ran for mayor after his return and was elected and Winterfell knew many years of peace and prosperity under his guidance. In time he retired but the Starks were still highly thought of and were quite content in Winterfell for many years.

However, when her father had passed away a few years earlier, her mother had decided to move back to the Riverlands from where she’d come as a new bride. And then, one by one Sansa’s siblings had moved off as well, whether for their career or school or love. All had left and only Sansa remained.

As a compassionate person Sansa couldn’t turn a blind eye to the troubles her beloved home town had suffered in the years since Roose Bolton became mayor. Crime was high and so were the taxes. Dirty cops turned a blind eye to the extortion and other unsavory things carried out by Roose’s own son, Ramsey. Corruption ran rampant and it was the impoverished that suffered the most.

So, when Petyr Baelish had suggested to the bright-eyed, eager young graduate who had started working at his firm that with her Stark name and family connections she should consider running for a political post, Sansa had been swayed to give it a go. She’d won the seat as a minor representative handily despite her youth and inexperience.

Three years later, she’d made her way to the mayor’s office and ousted Mayor Bolton at last. It had not been handed to her though. She’d worked hard in the capitol for the people of Winterfell, lobbying for the interests of all the people, not just the interests of the few, the wealthy and the privileged.

Petyr, who had become her campaign manager, whispered that the post of Warden (or Wardeness) of the North could be hers next. But, Sansa was content to be mayor. She loved her town and her people and wasn’t interested in climbing the ladder higher still anytime soon.

_I will make them love me by serving them all and serving them well._

Jeyne Poole, her personal assistant, had helped her settle in to her position and become a dear friend. It was also Jeyne who first brought Jon Snow to Sansa’s attention.

“Fire Chief Mormont is retiring so you’ll need to appoint a new one,” Jeyne said three days after Sansa took office.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Just like you’d appoint a new police chief or…”

“I know. You’re right. I just…this is all so new. My duties were different as representative and now I’ve got a lot more responsibility, you know?”

“Yes...but I know you’re going to do brilliantly.”

“Thanks, Jeyne.”

She really did want to do well. She wanted to show the people of Winterfell that she could be an effective public servant who could make positive changes happen for their town.

“There’s two applicants. Alliser Thorne’s been with the department for ages but got a bit of a bad rep in some circles. The other’s Jon Snow. Been with the department about six years now after a stint in the military. Bright and eager and well thought of by his mentor, Mormont. I’ll bring you their files to look over when you’ve got time.”

“Alright then,” Sansa said with a deep breath as she settled in behind her desk.

 _Time to get to work_ , _Madam Mayor_ , she told herself.

 

* * *

 

 

Jon Snow had not planned on becoming Fire Chief of Winterfell at this point in his career. He’d grown up in the nearby town of Cerwyn but left for the military soon after graduation.

He’d come to Winterfell six years ago to become a firefighter. He’d flourished in the department under Mormont’s guidance. He loved his work. He wasn’t too keen on politics but with Mormont leaving…well, there could be unpleasant changes to his beloved department if Thorne took over.

Alliser Thorne was very old-fashioned in his views on everything and not willing to consider the least little innovation that might save time…or even save a life. Not to mention that fact that Thorne subscribed to several antiquated notions when it came to the ‘brotherhood’ of firefighters.

For instance, he was fond of the old practice of hazing new recruits with cruel and demoralizing tasks. And he was big on the ‘brotherhood’ aspect. In other words, in Thorne’s narrow world view, female firefighters were not welcome and he’d helped ‘encourage’ more than one female recruit to reconsider her career choice when Jeor Mormont was not around.

So, Jon had felt compelled to toss his hat in the ring…after much prompting by his friend Sam Tarly. Even so, he’d been floored when the mayor’s office had called and said the new mayor was considering appointing him based on his performance record and some of his suggestions.

He went to City Hall to meet with her a couple of days later for an interview…and was then floored once more.

He’d seen her campaign posters but none had shown a picture of the mayoral candidate that finally wrested Winterfell out of the clutches of the Boltons. And he didn’t spend that much time watching the local news…or television at all for that matter. So, he’d never laid eyes on her.

_It might have been better if I’d prepared myself._

Sansa Stark was beautiful. _Beautiful seems too common a word for this angel. Radiant…maybe that’s a better choice_.

He gaped at her like a fish out of water when she’d warmly smiled at him and shook his hand. His eyes took in her lovely, long red hair tastefully swept up in a tidy bun and those sparkling blue eyes before settling far too long on her lush, pink lips. But when she began to speak, Jon chastised himself for his school-boy lust. She was a professional, younger than he expected for the mayor to be but that was irrelevant. Her position demanded respect but so did her person.

_You’re better than this, Snow. Focus on the person in front of you and not her looks._

The odd thing was though that the more time Jon spent speaking with Mayor Stark, the more interesting he found her...and the more infatuated he grew. If it wasn’t her florally perfume with a hint of a citrus undertone, it was her whole-hearted support of his charitable endeavors on behalf of the department. If it wasn’t the way she attentively listened to his four-year plan for departmental improvements, it was the way she delicately crossed her ankles when they sat down to chat in opposing arm chairs rather than her remaining behind her desk like some power players might have done. And if it wasn’t her bubbling laugh when he inadvertently brought it forth with his subtle, wry humor, it was the sharp and disappointed look she gave when her campaign manager, now turned chief of staff, came in to interrupt saying it was nearly time for her press conference.

“I apologize, Mr. Snow. I didn’t realize the time was getting away from us,” she said as she rose from her chair. “Thank you for coming to meet with me.”

“Thank you, Madam Mayor, for inviting me and listening to me run on for so long.”

“Not at all. It was my pleasure,” she said before she cleared her throat a bit uncomfortably.

Jon turned to see her campaign manager staring at them both, a sly and slightly concerned look on his face. The man was old enough to be her father but every mayor had a chief of staff. Hopefully, he was a good one.

That night, when he was home again, Jon watched the local news to catch the highlights of Sansa’s…Mayor Stark’s press conference. He then proceeded to spend hours at his computer looking up everything he could about the alluring Sansa Stark. Everything he learned only inflamed his interest and increased his admiration. She was a truly good person, out to make the world a better place to the best of her ability. Kind-hearted, intelligent, prudent but also not afraid of a challenge. Yes…he liked Sansa Stark very much.

At half past midnight, he knew he needed to call it a night. But as he laid in his bed, images of the radiant redhead spread through his mind like a brush fire and sleep was a long time coming.

 

* * *

 

 

 _Not all of us possess that happy knack of putting ourselves forward in a positive way to allow others to see the breadth of our potential_.

Alliser Thorne was one such person. A taciturn man by nature, he was also reserved in new situations.

Sansa, however, had long ago learnt not to hold such things against a person or allow a poor first impression to cloud her judgment. Having observed her father and mother a great deal when she was younger, she’d adapted that skill of making nearly anyone feel at ease in her presence. Petyr often said it was her secret weapon.

_“They see a lovely girl when they look at you, non-threatening and sweet. You lure them in like flies to honey and then you ensnare them with your intellect and wit, sweetling.”_

She didn’t particularly like the way Petyr said such things, as though she was a spider or some such creature, but she had to admit that he did make a fair point.

She especially loathed being called sweetling but it was an endearment he’d christened her with back when she was younger and not yet confident enough to tell him how unappreciated it was.

She didn’t particularly like Petyr that much anymore in truth but he had seen her this far. He wasn’t going anywhere and Sansa was grateful for all the lessons he had taught her about politics along the way…even if she didn’t care for some of him more questionable suggestions and less-than-stellar ethics.

Petyr fancied her. She knew it though she tried hard to ignore it. He had never been so unsubtle as to make any sort of move so for now she allowed it to pass and focused on doing her best to serve her people.

One of her first tasks was to find a new Fire Chief. She’d interviewed one candidate yesterday and now the other sat before her.

Unfortunately, the longer she spoke with Alliser Thorne, the more she decided she did not care for him.

_You don’t have to like him, Sansa. Think about what might make him a good fire chief. What might make him a poor one? What is in the best interests of your town’s fire department? Who would guide them the best? This man or…_

Sansa willed herself to not even think his name.

_Don’t think of…don’t think his…_

_Jon Snow._

_W_ _ell, fuck. I failed at that._

It had been hard to think of little else though since she’d met Jon Snow the day before. She had plenty on her plate to distract her from a certain curly-haired, dark-eyed firefighter with a body like Adonis and firm, full lips that begged to be kissed…but to claim he hadn’t crossed her mind more than once or played a starring role in her dreams last night would be a blatant lie.

Sansa hadn’t had a serious man in her life in…well, ever. The young men she’d dated back in college had been fun while they lasted but faded from her life like a fog the moment she moved back home.

She’d found herself thrown into the whirlwind of politics at a young age which didn’t allow for a great deal of time to build a real relationship. Other representatives she’d interacted with at the capitol...there’d been a fling with one and another had broken her heart. She’d come home and sworn off any more casual dalliances after that session.

And Petyr was always there. Like a bad penny, he always turned up when she was at her lowest point to dissuade her from wasting her time on romance. She told herself it was just that he was concerned with her career but part of her deeply suspected it was out of jealousy.

Sansa drew her rambling thoughts back to the man before her and continued their interview.

“I see that Chief Mormont started an initiative a few years ago to encourage more women to join the department. However, it seems not to have been terribly successful as Winterfell FD only boasts one female firefighter at present.”

“Oh, is that all?” Thorne asked, obviously not a bit interested. “Well…there were more at one time but I suppose those ladies came to realize that they weren’t cut out for a man’s job after all.”

Perhaps Thorne was that dense, for when Sansa’s eyes narrowed and she icily prompted him to continue with her, “A man’s job?” he plowed right ahead.

“Yes, you gals are all well in good in the work force in some capacities, I suppose. But firefighting is man’s work. It always has been. It always will be.”

“Mr. Thorne, I see here that your lone female firefighter, Yara Greyjoy, was given a medal by Chief Mormont for her valor and conduct above and beyond the call of duty along with three other firefighters last April during that horrible blaze at the senior center. Thanks to those four brave firefighters, no lives were lost and…”

“Oh…Yara,” Thorne smirked. “Well, I’m not sure I’d refer to her as…Yara likes to think she’s one of the men in more ways than one if you take my meaning. She’s tough. I’ll grant her that. It’s not just any girl that can carry 80 pounds of equipment on her shoulders into a blaze. Like you for instance, Madam Mayor. I can’t imagine a delicate girl like you trussed up in our gear and facing an inferno.”

He started guffawing at the idea and Sansa’s cheeks flamed with indignation. Certainly, Sansa couldn’t see herself as a firefighter either but his dismissive attitude topped by the way he condescendingly patted her knee when he stopped laughing enraged her.

“True, Mr. Thorne…but then there have been plenty who would suggest in the past that Winterfell would never have a female mayor.”

“Oh, yes…that’s true. The Stark name goes a long way around here,” he said knowingly.

_If I were holding a pencil, I think it would’ve just been snapped in two by now. If I had my hands around your neck, I think I would be squeezing._

It was a sore point, one that she could acknowledge to herself at least. She knew she owed a good deal of credit in her initial election to her family name but she had worked hard since then to show the people of Winterfell that Sansa Stark was more than just her family’s name, that she could bring about the peace and prosperity they’d known before under another Stark but that she was her own person with her own ideas about how to ensure the well-being of this town.

And, there was no room for a sexist asshole like this guy in one of the most important posts of her town.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Thorne,” she said with that chilly courtesy she’d learnt at her father’s knee when he was displeased by duplicitous or offensive behavior in someone.

“I look forward to hearing from you, Sansa,” Thorne said with an irritating, paternal tone before he showed himself out.

Sansa back down in the arm chair where she’d been sitting the past twenty minutes and groaned as she covered her eyes. Jeyne slipped in unannounced and handed her a water and some Tylenol.

“Thank you, Jeyne.”

“Is he as big an ass as I’ve heard?”

“Bigger.”

“So, the hot one then?”

“Well, they’re the only two applicants so…yeah, the hot one, as you put it. Jon Snow is definitely my first choice to be our next fire chief.”

Jeyne squealed and clapped her hands together like a girl before she composed herself. “Sorry. That was…unprofessional.”

Sansa only laughed. “It’s alright, Jeyne. I like to think we can be ourselves here when we’re alone. Besides…it’s not like I’m involved with him or even planning on getting involved with him. His looks are immaterial in this matter.”

“Of course,” Jeyne said with a pious little nod. She started to leave but then turned back and asked, “But…just hypothetically speaking…say your oven caught fire and you weren’t in any danger but the fire needed to be put out and you just happened to be completely nude when you answered the door and…”

“Jeyne,” Sansa sighed.

“Sorry.”

Sansa’s put-upon expression melted away and she grinned devilishly when she said, “If I wanted to live out a firefighter porn fantasy…Jon Snow would be my first choice then, too. Happy?”

“Most happy,” Jeyne replied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter starts with the scandal unfolding but then goes back to where Jon and Sansa's relationship really started.

“Jon?” Sam said concernedly from the corner of the office. “Are you alright? I know this is…”

Jon raised his eyes to meet his friend’s as Edd suppressed another curse. The images flickering on the television screen were blurred just enough in the right places to pass the censors but it did nothing to dim his embarrassment for Sansa or himself.

The reported rambled on and on about the Shocking Sex Scandal of Winterfell with relish as though the sex lives to two people she’d never met was earth-shattering news simply owing to what they did for a living.

_Aren’t there enough natural disasters, wars and human rights violations in this world to report on? It’s not like either of us are committing adultery here or were caught stealing from the town’s coffers. We’re two adults and…_

Jon glanced down at his laptop where social media, knowing none of the restraint of television censors, was having a field day. His jaw dropped and raged consumed him as he saw a new photo that had been released. It was of Sansa as she’d been astride him three nights ago. Her head was thrown back and her mouth was open. His Sansa…glorious and ethereal in her moment of ecstasy. One perfect, pinkish-tawny nipple was clearly visible in the photograph as the back of his head was covering the other where he’d been suckling at her while she came.

He burned with humiliation and fury at the violation. A sweet and sultry moment between two people that cared about one another, who were acting under the assumption that their private moment was indeed private, exposed to any idiot with access to the internet.

He tossed his laptop across his desk when he read the caption some asshole had attached.

 _'Madam Mayor tries out WFD’s hottest pumper truck.'_  

She was getting the brunt of this naturally. She was the mayor and she’d appointed him to his position. And the vultures seemed eager to circle around the young woman’s political career. It infuriated Jon to no end that some of the very same journalists who had been praising Sansa Stark’s tax reforms and overhaul of the police department, which had been in a very sorry state of corruption, were now busily questioning her fitness to serve as their mayor because the two of them were having sex.

_Because somebody made it their business to follow us…or have us followed and take those kinds of pictures to share with the world._

“You, dirty fucker!” shouted Edd, drawing Jon’s attention back to the television.

Jon nearly snarled when he saw Roose Bolton smirking at the reporter for a ‘special insider’s interview.’

_“I’m joined by Winterfell’s former mayor, Mr. Roose Bolton. Thank you so much for speaking with us, sir. Could you share your thoughts with us concerning this shocking turn of events involving our new mayor?”_

_“Well…”_ the cold-hearted reptile with the eyes like dirty ice said into the microphone, _“I suppose no one should be casting any stones. We’ve all made mistakes in the past and the Starks are no different in that, I assure you. I believe our fair mayor is awfully young for such a powerful post. It would certainly be tempting in her new position to engage in a little inappropriate conduct with a handsome young underling.”_

“Son of a bitch,” Edd groused. “He makes is sound like she seduced you or…that Bolton fucker.”

Jon reframed from making his own statement but he had to agree with Edd.

Bolton continued by saying, _“Some of the commissioners have come to me privately today to express their…concern over this matter.”_

_“Are you suggesting they may try and remove Mayor Stark from office, Mr. Bolton?”_

_“Oh, I’m not sure about that. I think some folks might feel better if our Madam Mayor sat down before commission and answered a few questions though. She’s supposed to be presenting her budget proposal next week. I don’t think she’ll find anyone very receptive to her plans though until she comes clean with the good people of Winterfell about this business between her and Chief Snow.”_

“Sources say that you know Alliser Thorne fairly well, Mr. Bolton. Do you think Mayor Stark made a mistake choosing Jon Snow over the older, more experienced fireman?”

 _“Well, that’s really more of a personal opinion…but yes, I do. But, I’ve known Alliser for years and while the poor man certainly isn’t the most personable guy,”_ he said with a chuckle, _“I’m sure he would’ve done well and held our fire department to its traditional high standards. Not to say anything disparaging about our young chief. No doubt he has charisma and charm galore compared to Alliser. And old Alliser can’t hold a candle to a fit young specimen like Snow. No one ever said Sansa Stark was blind.”_

_“So, you think sexual attraction played a significant role in Mayor Stark’s choice of fire chief?”_

“Turn it off!” Jon growled at last, no longer able to listen to anymore.

Edd punched the remote and stood up before clapping Jon on the shoulder as he shuffled out of the office. Sam dithered in the doorway uncertainly. Jon knew he meant well. Sam would want to say something to try and cheer him but right then, Jon didn’t want to be cheered. He wanted to allow his anger and resentment to fester against whoever had decided to humiliate her this way and make them both squirm.

“Could you close the door on your way out, Sam?” he asked, effectively dismissing his friend.

Once the door was closed, Jon covered his eyes and heaved a sigh. This was the last thing he would ever have wanted…to cause her this pain in the form of a scandal. He certainly didn’t want to cause her to lose her position as mayor. Winterfell needed her even if some self-righteous morons would try and run her out of town on a rail for daring to have a personal life.

He flipped open his laptop again and began typing. He opened his email and attached the document.  He only hesitated for a moment before he pushed ‘send.’

He pulled out his phone next and called her. The tightness in his chest started to ease at once when he heard her voice.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey.”

“Jon…I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t you dare tell me sorry. I’m sorry. I should’ve protected you from this. I should’ve known they’d be watching your place. It was my hotheadedness that drove me to come over there impulsively the other night.”

“It’s okay. I don’t regret it,” she whispered tearfully. “I don’t regret anything we’ve done, Jon.”

“I don’t either,” he whispered back. He cleared the lump from his throat and said, “I’d really like to see you.”

“I’d like that, too. We could…” She paused and Jon heard her breath expel in a long sigh. “Jon…you’re resigning?”

“I guess you got my email then. I figured it was you I needed to send that, too.”

“I don’t want this.”

“Well, our town needs you more than it needs me.”

“Can we talk about this at least?” He didn’t answer. He knew she’d try and talk him out of it…and Sansa could be very persuasive. “Will you meet me at our spot?” she asked next.

“We shouldn’t. Not while everyone is…”

“Please, Jon.”

She could be very persuasive…and he never wanted to tell her no.

“Alright.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Four Months Earlier**

 

The Winterfell Winter Gala was a big to-do every year with the local celebrities and politicians.  It had been founded by Sansa’s mother and father. Started as a fund raiser for the Lost Little Wolves’ Home, it had become more of a black-tie event for the posh to be seen at rather than raise any money or true awareness regarding the plight of the orphans of Winterfell under Roose Bolton’s reign.

In fact, the guest list was limited to a hundred during Bolton’s administration so that only the ‘right’ people could attend the dinner that cost five hundred dragons a plate.

And most unfortunately, a majority of that money had found itself channeled away from the orphanage and into Roose’s campaign slush fund.

Petyr had been aware of Roose’s practice regarding the gala and thought it wasn’t a bad idea to recoup some of the money they’d spent on Sansa’s campaign that way while ‘generously’ seeing to it that the orphanage actually saw some proceeds from the event this year.

However, when Sansa discovered what Bolton had done with her parents beloved charitable event, she had immediately started dreaming up ways to revise the gala to ensure that it served its original purpose while not going too overboard on expenses that would require dipping into tax revenues to fund.

She needed help though to plan an event this size on top of her other responsibilities and so she asked for volunteers amongst her staff and other public servants to form a committee. Jeyne, good-hearted woman that she was, volunteered immediately along with her personal body guard, Brienne Tarth. And to Sansa’s surprise and secret delight, Jon Snow volunteered even though she was certain that Winterfell’s new Fire Chief had plenty of duties to keep him busy.

Petyr offered his assistance as well. He had whispered a word or two in her ear about the various ways the gala could ‘profit us all’ but quickly abandoned that tactic when he noticed the tightening of her jaw and the fire in her blue eyes.

“Sweetling,” Petyr said in that tone she loathed at their first planning session after Sansa laid out her idea to them all, “you take on far too much as it is. And now you’re turning a simple dinner, nothing more needed than a caterer and a band, into a full-fledged extravaganza with multiple musical acts, pony rides, face painting and…magicians?”

He scoffed and tossed down Jeyne’s carefully researched list of area performers, vendors and entertainers.

Chief Snow was boring holes in the back of Petyr’s head while Jeyne looked ready to climb across the table and go after him. Brienne huffed audibly and bit her lip. Sansa squared her shoulders, encouraged by the fact no one else had thought her idea was a bad one.

“I told you I wanted to make this into something the children could enjoy as well, Petyr. The wining and dining will still happen that evening but I thought an outdoor…festival, if you will, would be something nice to do for the orphans. Meanwhile, the public can come out and partake in a bit of family fun whilst also contributing to the welfare of the children’s home since all of the acts and entertainers are donating their time for free."

"For free?  Who does anything for free?" Petyr laughed.

"Well...these people.  I can be persuasive and it's a good cause to attach their name to.  The vendors are promising to donate a portion of their sales to the home on top of the entry fee we’re charging.”

“It’s a pitifully low entry fee.”

“The gala’s dinner is expensive for those that wish to be recognized as ‘distinguished donors.’ And, yes…we’ll invite the media to cover both events. The wealthy can contribute by attending the gala which is where the bulk of the fundraising will come from and pat each other on the back for helping the kids.  But this way even those of humble means can help out and feel a part of the community.”

Petyr’s mouth formed that smile of his, the one that never met his eyes, but he bowed his head to her all the same.

Sansa noticed Jon Snow’s expression of satisfaction at Petyr’s acceptance and when their eyes met, he gave her an encouraging smile of his own…one that shone purely from his lovely dark eyes.  Why did that make her feel like singing?

 _Stop, Sansa.  He's just nice._  

“Chief, do you think you could provide a fire engine or two for the festival?” she asked. “Children love seeing them up close, don’t they?”

“Yes, ma’am, they do for certain,” he said grinning at her now. “It’d be no trouble to provide a couple of engines. We’d want one there anyway on standby at a large event like this. I’m sure some of the guys might be willing to volunteer some time to give the kids a look-around the trucks. And naturally, I’ll be there throughout the day.”

“Thank you,” Sansa said as she started blushing. _Why are you blushing, silly? He’s just being helpful_. “You don’t have to call me ma’am either. You can call me Sansa.”

“Oh…” he said as his eyes darted between the others and a slight flush graced his cheeks in turn. “Well, that’d be fine, Sansa…if you’ll call me Jon, please.”

“Of course…Jon,” she replied.

Their eyes remained locked on each other for longer than necessary perhaps. There was something in the way Jon Snow looked at her that made her wish he’d just stare at her all day long…so she could stare at him in return.

 _A sexy staring contest. Winner gets to be on top.  Gods, Sansa...behave_. 

Petyr cleared his throat and started shuffling papers.

Sansa’s eyes dropped first and she casually fanned herself with a folder before she said to the room in general, “So, let’s get started with making this happen.”

The meeting broke up about an hour later and Sansa lingered at the conference table dreading the inevitable discussion with Petyr. He’d be pleased about her remembering to invite the media. He definitely didn’t seem as enthused about the festival part though.

But much to Sansa’s relief, Petyr’s phone started chiming the moment he took it off mute and he hurried from the room to see to whatever urgent schemes awaited his attention.

Jeyne was right on his heels to see to a call of nature. _‘Too much tea earlier,’_ she’d whispered in Sansa’s ear right before Sansa had called a halt to the planning for the day.

Brienne stood near the door waiting to walk her down to her car. Brienne and Jaime were a great team to work with but she regretted that she required security in truth. It just didn’t seem like a mayor should really need that but crime was still an ongoing issue and considering how she’d managed to anger a certain portion of the police department lately by calling out Police Chief Locke for taking bribes, it seemed prudent.  She'd received three anonymous threats since Locke had been fired and Jeyne had tearfully convinced her to hire some protection until things settled down.

Sansa gave Brienne a discreet nod now and her bodyguard smiled softly before heading out the door.

Thus, Sansa found herself alone with Jon Snow for the first time since she’d interviewed him for his current position two months earlier.

“It’s very kind of you to give your time this way, Jon,” she said before she rose from the table and came to stand before him.

“One could say the same of you, Sansa. This isn’t exactly a requirement of your post,” he said, shuffling some papers into a black messenger bag.

His hair was down today. She couldn’t get over all those raven curls hanging down past his bearded jawline, just begging her to twirl them around a finger or two.

_Sansa, I know it's been a while for you but try and remember you are a professional._

“Well, no. But, this event was started by my parents and it meant a lot to them. I hate what it became under…that other administration and I really want to see it be a positive thing for the orphanage and the community as a whole.”

“That’s quite admirable,” he said as he shouldered his bag and took the smallest of steps closer to her. Sansa immediately felt the temperature of the room increase. She caught a whiff of his cologne and felt a bit dizzy. She was staring at his lips when he said, “But you could’ve easily dumped this on an intern or an underling. The fact that you want to be personally involved tells me a lot about you.”

“That I have a hard time delegating tasks, right?” she asked, a slightly teasing tone now.

“No,” he chuckled. “More like you care enough to give things your… _personal_ touch, if you’ll allow that,” he finished as his eyes raked her with a smoldering intensity.

“I’ll allow that,” she grinned, feeling like a giddy girl.

She looked down at his exposed forearm where it was braced against the back of the chair beside them. Suddenly, she wanted nothing so much as to reach out and touch that arm. _Gods, Sansa…step back a bit and stop thinking about touching this man_. She straightened and took a step back.

“Um…well, thanks again. I know you must be busy with, uh…”

She floundered and reached up to tuck a few stray wisps of hair back behind her ear.

His eyes tracked her hand as she nervously fussed with her hair. He licked his lips and just stood there for nearly a minute as though he wasn’t quite sure what to say now.

“No, this is exactly the kind of thing I like helping with,” he said at last, giving his head a shake as though he needed to clear his thoughts. “The home I lived in took us to an event like this when I was around eight.”

“The home you lived in?” she asked as the weight of those words struck her.

“Yeah. My mother died when I was four. My father was never, um…part of the picture. Anyway, I was sent to the children’s home in Cerwyn.”

“Oh, Jon. I'm sorry.  I didn’t know.”

“How would you know?” he asked in a tone meant to assure her that he didn’t mind telling her of it. “I went to foster homes on and off but I spent most of four years at Cerwyn’s Home for Orphans before I was finally placed with the family that adopted me. It was…well, it’s embarrassing how excited I was by things like pony rides and snow cones but it was a pretty big deal to us that day. It was also the first time I ever saw a fire engine up close…one that wasn’t tearing down the street to an emergency, that is.”

Sansa’s heart swelled with unexpected emotion at his admittance and she found she wanted to know more about Jon Snow. It was getting late, nearly 7:00 o’clock and she had no idea what his schedule was like but she blurted out the invitation all the same before she could think better of it.

“Would you want to grab some dinner with me?”

His eyes widened and he gulped. It was charmingly sweet and unpracticed. She found that she liked it after dating politicians that could smile in your face while they plotted ways to stab you in the back.

“Uh…yeah. I’d love to have dinner with you, Sansa.”

“Strictly professional, of course,” she added automatically as an afterthought…and cringed at the way that sounded.

He looked a tad crestfallen then but still smiled and said, “Sure, Sansa.”

 

* * *

 

 

Three weeks later, the morning of the Little Wolves’ Festival and Winterfell’s Winter Gala dawned bright and crisp. A layer of frost had frozen on top of last week’s snow and all around the town’s fairgrounds boots crunched through the ice until it was worn down to a mushy sludge. Not that it dimmed anyone’s spirits. This was the North and outdoor activities carried on year-round in all but the worst of weather.

Jon had on his thermals under his fireman’s long-sleeve t-shirt and his work pants and boots as well. He had pulled his hair back with a tie and donned a skull cap before putting his helmet to keep his ears from getting too cold. He was wearing his thick, rugged work gloves as well.

He glanced across the way towards the small concert stage where workers were setting up equipment for the day’s performers. Sansa was there with a clipboard and walkie-talkie overseeing things while Jaime Lannister, the other half of her security detail, trailed her.

She was in fitted blue jeans and boots and wearing a puffy, cream-colored jacket that highlighted her red hair almost as well as the morning sunshine that made it gleam a variety of shades from a russet gold to a deep crimson.

“Fuck me, she’s gorgeous,” Edd said at his side.

“Yeah…uh, who?” Jon said, tearing his eyes away from Sansa…only to realize his friend was looking at her.

“The mayor, Chief. She’s gorgeous.”

“She is quite attractive,” Jon said as nonchalantly as possible.

“Jon had dinner with her,” Sam said to the lot of them.

Edd, Yara and Pyp all froze in the middle of their tasks. “He what?” Yara gaped.

“He had…uh…dinner…with her,” Sam squeaked as Jon’s eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“When?” Pyp demanded, rounding on Jon with a leer.

“Sorry,” Sam whispered.

“Guys…it’s not a secret or anything. You know our planning sessions for this were always slated for the late afternoon. It was usually after six or later when we’d finish. Last night, we were both hungry so…we had dinner.”

_Well, we've had dinner more than once._

“More than once,” Sam added.

“Gods, Sam!” Jon snapped. “Remind me never to tell you anything again!”

“Sorry.”

Jon turned back to the others and said, “Look. It was just dinner. Strictly professional.” _Except we don’t discuss anything remotely professional most of the time_.

It was true that they would always pay for their own meals so it didn’t exactly feel like a date but on the other hand, they had spent hours talking about their lives by this point. Jon felt like he knew Sansa Stark as well as he knew anyone in this world. He was truly glad of that. And there was the added detail that he was possibly falling in love with her.

“So, you’re saying you’re not secretly dating our hot mayor and holding out on us?” Yara asked incredulously.

“No, I'm not,” he scoffed. _Kind of…maybe. I’d like to call it dating but there’s been no kissing yet_.

Gods, he wanted to kiss her. He’d thought about it several times. He dreamed about her nearly every night.

He’d been lonely for a good long time. His last relationship had ended two years ago but it was more than a longing for sex. He desired Sansa’s company as much as he desired her.

But he worried what it might mean if they were seen together as a couple. He suspected she did as well. And if they were to pursue anything… _we’d have to be careful…very_ _careful_. They had tap-danced around it for a while now.

Most of the places they ate were loud, crowded and not remotely romantic. Mayor Stark and the Fire Chief just getting together to eat some wings or burgers and talk shop.

Last night though, they’d been at a little Italian restaurant. He’d mentioned pizza and suggested his favorite place. It wasn’t fancy but the lighting was low and there weren’t any other patrons there with them.

Sansa had started talking about her father and her family. Jon felt like he already knew them all from their other conversations. She’d suddenly grown teary as she reminisced about Ned Stark and wiped at her eyes, embarrassed over her emotional display.

He’d reached across the table and took her hand, murmuring words of comfort for what they were worth. It felt as natural as anything he'd ever done.  His thumb had gently rubbed circles over the back of her hand. They both stared at their clasped hands for several minutes and then, as if by some unspoken agreement, raised their eyes at exactly the same moment to meet the other’s gaze. Her blue eyes were shining with something other than tears. Her chin trembled and Jon felt shaky all over.

He'd opened his mouth to speak, to say something...anything.  But then the server had returned with their drinks. Like a child reaching for a soap bubble that popped right before it could be caught, the moment dissipated and Jon had buried his longing for the time being. It wouldn’t stay buried forever, he knew. _Not if I keep spending time with_ _her_.

“Hey, Jon. Good morning, everyone,” a bright voice chirped behind him. He turned to find Sansa standing there like a walking-talking daydream, smiling at him. Jaime was behind her…and smirking at him. “Everything ready?”

“You bet, Madam Mayor,” Sam answered as Jon stood there staring at her like a lovesick fool.

“Yeah, we’re all ready to go here, ma’am,” Yara added. “Can’t wait for the kiddos to come check out the trucks.”

“Terrific,” she said happily. “Jon…could I borrow you for a minute?”

“Sure thing,” he said.

When she turned, the others started shooting him looks and Jon scowled at them all. He hustled to catch up to her long stride and noticed that Jaime made himself scarce.

Sansa pointed out the petting zoo tent and the pony rides and was visibly excited by the upcoming day. She was also visibly nervous about something. He figured it must be the festival and gala. It had become a huge event. Every media outlet in town had been talking about it. The orphanage was going to truly benefit from it this year and they were all thrilled.

“Everything looks great, Sansa,” he said. “You should be really proud of pulling this all together. The kids are going to have such a great time.”

“Thanks. I couldn’t have done this without you, Brienne and Jeyne.”

She didn’t mention Baelish. He had found excuses to avoid their committee meetings after the first one. Jon suspected he’d lost interest in the whole project but later learned that he’d volunteered to handle the gala and send out the invites for that…not that Jon would be going.

Sansa came to a stop just inside a small tent that wasn’t occupied yet. It was slightly warmer in here than outside. She seemed even more nervous now. She started twisting a lock of her hair and opened and closed her mouth a few times before speaking at last.

“So, are you ready for tonight?”

“Um…tonight?” he said. “Yeah, I'm all set for a hot date with my sofa and probably some take-out.”

Sansa looked puzzled and said, “Aren’t you coming tonight? To the gala?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “I don’t think I’d fit in so well at a fancy dinner. I’m not much of a dancer either. And even if I were, I’m not invited.”

“Not invited? What do you mean you’re not invited? You’re the Fire Chief. And you helped with all the planning and…I told Petyr to invite all of you.”

“All of us?”

“The fire department…and the police, the clerk’s office, the public works team and my staff. I wanted all of the town’s employees to come.”

“Well…most of us can’t afford 500 dragons a plate.”

“No, no, no. That’s for the people that want to be listed as ‘distinguished donors.’ The caterers offered an extremely reasonable rate..."

"I'll bet they did.  You are quite persuasive."

She grinned and continued, "So, I thought it would be nice to invite our town’s public servants as well as the staff of the orphanage. The more the merrier, right? I told Petyr to…” She trailed off and her eyes narrowed. “I believe I need to make a phone call, Jon.”

“Sure, Sansa,” he said as he turned to leave so she could make her call.

“Wait!” she called.  She paced over to him.  They were still all alone in the small tent.  Her nervousness was back.  He wasn't quite sure why she'd be nervous...but he had some hopes. “I asked to speak with you earlier because…well…will you come tonight? It may be too late to get everyone else to attend that I wanted but will _you_ come at least?”

“Me? I…I’m not really…”

“Please, Jon. I’d like it if you came. I’d like to…have you there to talk to and maybe you could sit with me?”

_Talk to? Sit with me? Is this like a date or…_

He couldn’t allow himself to hope for that just yet.

“I don’t own a tux or…” he stalled.

“I’ll bet you’d look quite fetching in your dress uniform,” she said with a coy smile. “I’ve always thought men in uniform were far more dashing than men in tuxedos.”

He could hardly say no when she looked at him that way, her eyes dancing with a mixture of sweet pleading and mischievous flirtation.

They’d never been anything but cordial to one another but there was this strange tension at times, an underlying and potent push and pull between them. He was definitely feeling it now.

_You didn’t flunk Chemistry 101, Jon. You know what it is._

Still, he felt a fool at the thoughts of rubbing shoulders with society people. And the image of Sansa in some fancy gown made his stomach do flip-flops and his palms sweat.

“I can’t dance,” he babbled, grasping for an excuse to avoid embarrassing himself in front of her.

“I wouldn’t make you dance,” she promised. She drew closer…right in front of him. He could smell the citrusy fragrance she favored and see the way her pupils had dilated in the darkened space they occupied. That adorable mischievous look was back in her eyes when she said, “But if you were inclined to dance…I hope you’d dance with me.”

“Dance with you? Well, I could be persuaded perhaps,” he said with a heated glance at her lips.

“Oh…I don’t know if I’m up to that challenge,” she teased.

“I think you are. You can be very persuasive, Madam Mayor,” he said with a devilish grin.

His hands went to her waist before he could think it through. Just a slight, initial stiffening and then he felt her body relaxing under his touch.

“Me…persuasive? Yes, I’ve been told that a time or two. It helps in politics, Chief Snow,” she sighed. Her eyes looked down at where he’d put his hands on her waist and then back up again. Sansa raised her own hands and placed them on his shoulders. “I suspect a man like you prefers action to persuasive words though.”

“You’d be right about that,” he said…right before he leaned in to capture her lips with his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I suck at outlines lately because every time I try and say this is a short fic and will be this many chapters long, I'm wrong! It was going to be three chapters but I kept adding more little details and such. 
> 
> And no smut yet. I'm sorry! It's coming next chapter but I decided I needed to give some background to their growing attraction and feelings and wanted to show Sansa being an awesome Lady of Winterfell...I mean, mayor. Next chapter though will be the start of their affair and we'll find out who all is out to take down Winterfell's new mayor as we've got four candidates now.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the update. Please comment if you liked this because it really makes my day and keeps me motivated. I'm going to focus on updating some of my longer WIPs first but I'll try to return to this one before too long!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice long chapter!

Sansa threw on Robb’s old Direwolves Letterman’s jacket and a ballcap before leaving her parents’ place. The house was empty most of the year but her mom hadn’t wanted to sell it and sometimes Bran came and stayed when he was free of graduate school for the summer. She’d offered to let him stay with her but her house wasn’t as wheelchair friendly.

The rest of the year, Sansa checked on the old homestead regularly and made sure it didn’t fall into disrepair. She wanted it to be like it was when they were all children…as much as possible anyway. She wanted the family to know they could always come home again.

Lately though…she’d made use of the house in other ways. She grew flushed as she remembered being cuddled up with Jon in a blanket by the fireplace just last week and then remembering all they’d done on that blanket by the fire. She reminisced on that night…and all the nights they’d shared here once they’d been ready to move beyond making out in the cab of his pickup.

When the scandalous news broke the day before, reporters started loitering around her little house closer to town. Jaime had caught more than one trying to come around the back of the house. One fool had even dared trying to climb the tree outside her bedroom window where the mystery photographer had captured the photos of them together…the night Jon had impulsively come to her after hearing of Ramsey Bolton and his threats. Jaime and Bronn had run the reporter off but they hadn’t known about the photographer the other night obviously.

Sansa glanced up and down the long drive way. You couldn’t see the street from here but the coast seemed clear and she climbed into her father’s old pickup truck. The engine roared to life and she headed to their regular date spot. Her stomach churned in a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. Anticipation at the thoughts of seeing Jon tonight and anxiety about pretty much everything else right now.

He was trying to resign. What did that mean exactly? Jon was honorable and the kind of guy who’d fall on his own sword for what he deemed the greater good. But she didn’t want him to quit. And if he did quit, did that mean he’d quit being a firefighter all together? What would he do? Did he want to move back to Cerwyn? Did he want to quit being with her, too?

 _Just stop_ , she begged her overactive and overtired brain.

Mr. Royce from the Town Commission had called her office late this afternoon and requested a meeting…a hearing. Jeyne had fielded the call and said the mayor would get back with them. But Sansa knew there really wasn’t much of an option. If she was ever going to move past this, she’d have to face them.

 _Or quit…you could always just quit and hide under a rock somewhere for the next ten years_.

She knew that wouldn’t be happening though. Sansa wasn’t made that way. She couldn’t just walk away from the good work her team had been doing to help Winterfell simply because she’d been caught in an embarrassing situation on camera.

 _It wouldn’t be a bit embarrassing if it had remained private though_.

She hummed under her breath as a calming exercise to control the anger bubbling beneath the surface. Calm and collected. That was what she needed to be in the face of this. A professional, a politician…a lady.

Once the raged died down enough to think straight, her mind began to puzzle over who had had the pictures made and who had released them to the media. And why.

Petyr was an obvious choice but did he work alone? He’d been furious when she’d fired him but he didn’t strike her as the sort to make this kind of move without support. And while she could see him listening at doors or peering through windows, she didn’t see him as the type to climb a tree to take photographs.

Roose Bolton and his son were also potentials. Ramsey definitely seemed the sort to climb trees and peek through ladies’ bedroom windows. Sansa shuddered at the thought of that man watching her at all, not to mention watching her and Jon.

_And don’t forget Locke and Thorne. They all had reasons to want to see you hounded out of office. How did they expect that to benefit them though? Thorne might hope to become fire chief if Jon steps down but this just doesn’t seem like him. And there’s already a new police chief so Locke wouldn’t automatically gain his position back but I suppose certain promises could’ve been made._

_Roose though…Roose could try and regain his post as mayor or relaunch his political career in another direction. A new Warden of the North will be elected two years from now. Despite the dirt that has come out about him, there are plenty of sheep…wealthy sheep…that would still vote for him without batting an eye._

_And Petyr…he would be looking to hitch his wagon to someone new after everything, especially if that someone could rise high in another post, one of the highest in the land._

Her phone started ringing and she groaned when she saw it was Brienne. But she wouldn’t ignore her.

“Hello, Brienne,” she said as cheerfully as she could.

“You know…it’s rather difficult for Jaime and me to protect you when we don’t know where you are.”

“I know. I’m…”

“Sansa…are you going to Jon?”

“I am,” she answered defiantly. She felt like a teenager being busted for sneaking out to meet her boyfriend. _Fuck all of them. I want to see him. I need him. Why can’t we talk to each other? Why is it anyone’s business but our own?_

“Are you meeting him at Hot Pie’s?”

Sansa didn’t answer at first as an ignoble flare of suspicion crossed her mind. They knew where she went. They followed her everywhere. Brienne had subtly asked about her and Jon’s relationship once. Jaime hadn’t been so subtle.

“Did you want to follow me there, Brienne? Did you or Jaime need to make a phone call first though?” she asked harshly.

“We’d never do anything to hurt you, Sansa,” Brienne said quietly. “I hope you know that. I know this whole situation probably makes you wonder who you can trust though. Jaime and I both care about you and hate that you’re going through this.” Sansa drew in a sharp breath and started sobbing when Brienne added, “We’re here for you. We’ll do anything we can to protect you. We only want to see you happy.”

“I know,” Sansa wailed. “I’m sorry, Brienne! I didn’t really mean that!”

“Sansa…if you’re driving, why don’t you pull over for a minute? I wouldn’t want you to get in an accident.”

Sansa laughed despite her tears at that. Brienne was always mothering her.

 _Mother_ , she thought next with a pang and pulled over.

She’d been avoiding the phone all day. She couldn’t ignore them forever. But she knew her mom, Robb and Arya would all be worried. Hopefully, Bran and Rickon were blissfully unaware at school but she couldn’t rely on that. She needed to call them.

A half hour later she arrived at Hot Pie’s, the Italian restaurant her and Jon had gone to for the first time right before the Winterfell Winter Festival and Gala. She had tried to fix her make-up earlier and faked a smile for Jon as he got out of his own truck.

“Hello, love,” he said with a smile before he pulled her into a hug right there in the parking lot. Sansa looked anxiously around. “There’s no one here,” he reassured her. “Just the usual crowd on a Saturday night.” He cupped her cheek and looked closely at her face. The mascara had been tricky to fix. The old pickup didn’t have a lighted makeup mirror. And Sansa was sure her face was still blotchy. “You’ve been crying,” he said sadly.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Why’s my beautiful girl crying?” he asked before his lips twisted into an impish grin. “Surely, it’s not because there’s nude photos of us plastered all over the internet and we’re the talk of the town.”

“Well, there’s that,” she said while biting her lip to keep from laughing…or crying. She wasn’t sure which. “I accused Brienne of spying on us.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” he said as he kissed her forehead.

“And I talked to my mom just now and cried like a baby about how violated I feel. She’d like to meet you by the way.”

“I’d love to meet her, too,” he said with perfect sincerity. “Hopefully, she doesn’t want to kill me.”

“She doesn’t. Jon…what’re we going to do?”

“We are going to figure this out. We are going to figure out who’s behind this and they are going to be sorry they ever made you shed a single tear.”

“Are you planning on torturing them, Chief Snow?”

“I was in the military. I know things,” he said half-jokingly.

“Please, don’t quit, Jon. I need you here.”

“I’m not leaving you, Sansa…but resigning might take the pressure off you. I’d never leave you to face this all alone.”

“I disagree. I think if you resign it’s like admitting we were doing something wrong. Maybe we should’ve been more open once we became more of an established thing but I still don’t think we should have to hide anymore or quit over it.”

“Sansa…love…I’ll do anything it takes to make this better for you. I love the job and the station and everyone but if being there…”

She hiccupped and put a finger to his lips. She couldn’t deal with this, with the thoughts of this good man walking away from a career he loved for her. She shook her head to stop him from saying anything else just then and stumbled into his arms. He pulled her close and held her so tight. There was nothing so secure feeling as Jon’s arms wrapped around her. His nose brushed her cheek and he murmured sweet words in her ear.

There was a loud burst of noise as the doors to the restaurant opened. Three couples were chatting and laughing together as they headed towards where Jon and Sansa stood in the parking lot.

“I’m not all that hungry,” she whispered into Jon’s neck where she had her face buried.

“Me, either,” he said. “Can I take you for a drive or…”

“The house.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, Jon. Take me where we can just be Jon and Sansa again for tonight.”

He nodded and took her by the hand before he helped her into his truck.

 

* * *

 

 

**Four months earlier-The Winter Gala**

 

Jon spent nearly an hour getting ready for the gala that night and he’d never felt so uncertain about anything in his entire life. He’d kissed her. He’d kissed Sansa at last. He had wanted to shout it out loud to anyone and everyone at the festival that day. Naturally, he didn’t though.

But just as the kissing was getting really hot, Sansa’s walkie talkie had went off with a loud squawk. They'd jumped apart at the sound and she'd giggled nervously before answering. There was some issue at the food tent and Sansa’s opinion was wanted. Jon’s phone had went off shortly after as Thorne called to ask him about an issue at the station.

They had parted with an awkward smile and a wave and spent the rest of the day busy with their own tasks.

_So, what did the kiss mean then? She seemed alright with me doing that. Would she be alright with it if I did that again?_

Jon dearly hoped so.

He showered, trimmed his beard and tied his hair back. He pulled his black dress uniform out of the back of his closet which hadn’t been worn since Jaremy Rykker’s funeral last year. He’d just worn his khaki utility pants and a department polo for his induction at Sansa’s office as Fire Chief a couple of months earlier.

He fussed with the tie until it was perfect. He dug through his drawer until he found his WFD cufflinks and then cursed to himself as he tried to get those little buggers to cooperate. He polished his dress shoes until you could see your reflection in them. His commanding officer in the army would’ve been proud of the attention to details he was displaying now.

 _Well…Sansa deserves all the attention to details_ , he thought.

When he arrived at the gala that evening, he moved through the crowd of reporters and bigwigs, searching for her. She was tall. She’d be even taller in heels and her red hair would be like a beacon in the night for him. He craned his neck around searching to no avail. There were so many people there.

“Hey, Chief,” said a voice behind him. He spun around to find Yara standing there in a lovely navy dress…and sneakers. He chuckled and she said, “I don’t do heels, alright?”

“Me, either so I can’t say a word. You look very nice though. I’m glad you could come.”

“Yeah, it was nice of Mayor Stark to invite us all. Pyp and Edd are at the station with Grenn and Halder tonight.”

“Well, we can’t leave the station unmanned. Is Sam here?”

“Yeah, he brought Gilly.”

“Ah, that’s good,” he said as he started searching again, hoping for a glimpse of their fair mayor.

“She’s over by the bar, I believe,” Yara said.

“Who?” he asked.

Yara wasn’t a bit fooled. “You know who. Don’t be an idiot. Go on over. The men have been circling her like shadow cats. Best make a move before someone else does, Chief.”

 _I already made a move_.

He shook his head at how obvious he was being but thanked Yara before he headed off to find Sansa. His jaw dropped when he found her.

_Holy shit. You’ve found her. Now what?_

She was exquisite…and Jon felt woefully out of his league once more. Surrounded by men in designer tuxes, Sansa was a heavenly vision in a soft orchid ball gown. The sweetheart neckline showed a tantalizing bit of cleavage and Jon’s mouth went dry. The cap sleeves were resting just off her lovely white shoulders. The full skirt was made of some gauzy type material. She looked like a fairy tale princess…at least to Jon’s eyes.

She had her hair up in an elaborate braid that circled her head like a halo and her eyes were shining as she chatted with Jason Mallister, one of the wealthiest men in town. He was handsome for an older man and he seemed quite enthralled by whatever Sansa was saying. Jon felt a stab of jealousy…until she glanced his way.

“Mr. Mallister, allow me to introduce our wonderful new fire chief, Jon Snow,” she said as she glided over to him. He caught just a flash of her shoes as she walked. They appeared to be glass slippers.

_She could be Cinderella. She really could. There’s nothing written that says Cinderella must be a blonde._

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered in his ear as she wrapped her arm around his. “I’m dying to get off my feet and no one will let me be for two whole minutes to do so.”

The words had barely registered by the time he’d shaken Mr. Mallister’s hand. He’d been too distracted by that citrusy fragrance she wore and the soft swell of her breasts that just barely peeped over the décolleté of her gown.

However, he did manage to find his tongue again.

“Madam Mayor,” he said politely once they’d spent a few minutes in small talk with Mr. Mallister. “I was wondering if I could trouble you for a moment with some departmental business.”

“Oh…of course, Chief,” she replied with a grateful smile.

Jon led her to a table in a far corner and sat her down before bringing her a flute of champagne.

“Is this alright?” he asked, gesturing at the beverage.

“Perfect,” she sighed as she sipped the drink and kicked off her heels. “I really shouldn’t have worn these. They kill my feet.”

He looked down at the offending shoes and noticed they were silver instead of glass. “Yara wore sneakers,” he commented with a grin at how girlish she looked happily sipping her champagne with her bare feet. Her toes were painted a deeper purple than her gown.

“Yara is a wise woman,” she replied.

A server came by and refreshed their glasses and they sat chatting and laughing together. It was so easy between them. No wonder he’d kissed her. He wished everything could be so simple as talking to Sansa seemed to be. He started to mention the kiss but hesitated. Mayor Stark wouldn’t be allowed to stay in her corner for long and he didn’t know exactly what to say.

“I shouldn’t have any more to drink until I eat. Champagne makes me tipsy,” she said ruefully when the server stopped by once more.

“Alright,” he said, finishing his own glass. “Then, dance with me instead.”

“Dance with you? I thought you said you didn’t dance,” she said in a teasing tone.

“I don’t…except when I’ve got a bit of a champagne buzz going. Then, I dance.”

She snickered and said, “And how often do you get buzzed on champagne, Jon?”

“Well, you’ve got me there. This is actually a first,” he replied with a lopsided grin. He looked around and asked this time, “Will you dance with me, Sansa?”

“I would dance with you…but my feet hurt,” she said softly.

“You can dance barefoot. I don’t care.”

“Barefoot? Here?” she said with an adorably aghast expression.

“You could stand on my feet,” he offered.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you, Jon,” she said next and from her expression it was clear she wasn’t just talking about smooshing his toes.

“I don’t think you’ll hurt me, Sansa,” he replied as he gazed at her with all the pent-up affection he’d tried to hide the past few weeks. “Your dress is long. No one would have to know,” he said, his voice low and husky with emotion.

She smiled…a soft and tremulous smile that filled his heart with hope. He led her to the dance floor just as a slow song started to play. He had to hold her close so she could stand on his feet. His hands on her hips again, just like earlier when he’d kissed her and Sansa so close he couldn’t think straight. She stepped onto his feet but he didn’t notice the weight at all as they began to sway in time to the music. All he knew was her.

 

* * *

 

 

She’d been cross with Petyr over the invitations that had never been extended to the town’s employees. She’d been perfectly furious when he’d blamed Jeyne.

“An easy mistake to make, I’m sure. Poor Jeyne’s been so busy on your behalf with the festival and her normal duties. She must’ve overlooked it and deleted it by mistake,” he said over the phone that morning after Jon Snow had kissed her in the small tent on the fairgrounds.

 _Don’t think about that right now_ , she scolded herself as her mind began to wander back to full, firm lips and his warm hands pulling her close. _Heavens, Sansa…think straight_.

Petyr had forwarded her a copy of the email he’d supposedly sent instructing Jeyne to invite all the town’s employees to the gala. It was dated and everything. Perhaps Jeyne had overlooked it.

Sansa had stared at her phone and stewed silently, knowing there was no way to prove he wasn’t right. But part of her wondered if he’d emailed Jeyne and promptly deleted it. Jeyne had been out of the office a lot preparing things for the festival and Petyr often sat at her desk or used her computer when it suited him.

 _It doesn’t matter now, I suppose_ , she thought as the gala wound along that evening. Word got out and she was pleased by the turn out of employees they’d managed to get.

She glanced over at Jon who was laughing with Sam Tarly, his girlfriend and Yara Greyjoy along with a couple of other firefighters. The new police chief, Cotter Pyke, and a few of his officers had joined them. They all seemed to be having a good time.

The town clerk, Mrs. Mordane, and several of her employees had managed to find some formalwear last minute to join them, too.

“We all want to be here to show our support for not only the Children’s Home but for you, Madam Mayor,” Mrs. Mordane had said to her when Sansa thanked her for coming on such short notice.

Even Red Thoros and grumpy old Clegane from Public Works had somehow been talked into coming out. Thoros was wearing a suit that appeared to be a few decades old and smelled of mothballs but it didn’t matter one bit to Sansa. Clegane was wearing a tuxedo t-shirt and jeans. She’d only laughed and told him she liked the shirt.

Most of the posh kept their distance from Thoros and Clegane but Sansa didn’t worry over that as long as the orphanage reaped the benefits of a successful festival and gala. She hoped it could become an annual tradition for the town.

Her eyes found Jon’s on her and she drew a deep breath. Being held in his arms earlier as they danced…it had been magical. She wished that they could’ve just pretended they were two regular people attending an event. She had wanted to go on dancing with him all night. But that could not be.

Petyr had cut in at their third dance saying that Mr. Daxos had arrived. The gentleman from Qarth was interested in opening a new factory in Winterfell. He was also keen to acquire some real estate…with the proper tax incentives.

Jon’s jaw had clenched at the interruption and Sansa had liked the way his hands had tightened possessively around her waist but she knew her duties awaited. She’d made her excuses to Jon and darted back to where she’d stashed her heels, grimacing as she slid them back on.

“You should thank me from rescuing you, sweetling,” Petyr had murmured in her ear. “People were starting to whisper.”

“About what? And what people?” she had asked.

“About you and Chief Snow dancing the night away,” he had smirked. “He’s a handsome young man I’ll grant you but you really should have a care.”

“We were just…”

“Making a bit of a spectacle of yourselves, I’m afraid.”

Sansa had opened her mouth to argue but shut it again as Mr. Daxos came into view.

_Were we? Did we make a spectacle of ourselves? Is it anyone’s business if we were?_

She knew that it was in a way though. She was technically Jon’s boss. But why should that be so wrong considering their true duties didn’t require much interaction? Was it wrong because she held a political post? Or because she was a woman? Or both?

She spied Alliser Thorne standing by the bar. He’d taken his rejection with good grace at the time though he’d been hard pressed to hide his disappointment. Sansa could hardly blame him for that. No one liked to get turned down. But now, he was staring at her with pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

 _Does he think I chose Jon over him because…because of his looks? Does he think we’re involved?_ Are _we involved?_

He had kissed her just this morning and she had let him. And what was more…she wanted to kiss him again.

 _We must be careful_ , she told herself as she gave Mr. Daxos a sunny smile and shook his hand.

 

* * *

 

 

Jon stood in the back parking lot of the assembly hall with his hands shoved in his pockets and his tie undone not sure what to do now. Sansa had been swept away from him in the middle of a dance by Baelish and kept from him the rest of the evening. And it felt like maybe she’d been okay with that. The few, fleeting times she looked his way, she would immediately turn her head away again. It was like a knife to the heart.

_What did I do? Did I frighten her off with the dancing? With the kiss? Or is she just busy hobnobbing with the donors and other folks?_

“Are you waiting on someone, Chief?” Jaime Lannister asked as he exited rear of the building.

“I’m just getting some air,” Jon lied. He figured Jaime and Brienne would take her out the back exit and he was hoping to see her. He’d always been an abysmal liar and Lannister smirked at him. “Is she…is San-I mean, Mayor Stark still in there?” he asked.

_Well that was smooth, Jon. Why don’t you go ahead and make an utter fool of yourself and confide in this jackass that you’re in love with her?_

“Yeah…she’s dancing right now.” Jon winced and Jaime chuckled. “With Cotter Pyke actually.”

“Oh!” Jon said in relief. The new police chief was a good guy and honest but he was not likely to set any female hearts aflutter. “I mean…oh.”

“So, how do you like your boss?” Jaime asked with a piercing look next.

“I, uh…she’s really great to work with. I feel honored to work with such a caring and compassionate leader. Winterfell is truly blessed to…”

“Cut the crap, kiddo. You like her as more than a boss, don’t you?”

His mouth fell open but then he shrugged. “Yeah, I do.” What else could he really say?

Jaime shook his head and looked around for a minute. “She likes you, too. Just don’t hurt her.”

“I would never mean to hurt her.”

“Well, I figured that. You’ve got Boy Scout written all over your face, Snow. It’s a bit annoying really. But what I mean is you need to be careful.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“I didn’t say you were…yet. But standing in there dancing together…for three dances, mind you…while you give her the biggest heart eyes I’ve ever seen on a grown man leads people to talk. Now, I’m not saying you two couldn’t be a couple openly in time. But for now…you’re both new to your positions and Sansa’s got a lot on her shoulders.”

“I know that.”

“And she’s technically your boss. It’s awkward for her to…I’m sure she wouldn’t want to feel like you felt obligated to agree to a date or...”

“I see what you mean. And, I guess we’d need to be kind of covert.”

“Yeah…kind of lovers under the covers for now at least.” Jon felt his cheeks grow warm at that statement making the older man laugh. “Sorry. You can hold hands and kiss out at lover’s lane if that’s more your speed, Snow. Just don’t let the press see you or set too many tongues to wagging by kissing her in the middle of a commission meeting, alright?”

Jon rolled his eyes but he knew what Jaime was saying.

The back door opened again and Sansa came out with Brienne on her heels.

“All clear?” Brienne asked her partner.

Jon noticed the sleek Town Car pulling around and saw Sansa biting at her bottom lip and looking at her feet. She glanced up at him shyly and he smiled. He would need to be the one to make this step.

“ _Are_ we all clear?” Jaime asked him.

“Yeah. Hey, Sansa? Could we talk for a minute?” he asked.

 

* * *

 

 

**Three weeks after the gala**

 

Sansa entered Hot Pie’s Pizzeria on a slow Tuesday night. She spotted Jon tucked in their dimly lit corner booth like always and pulled off her scarf once she sat down.

Hot Pie was an old friend of Arya’s from high school. He had taken over the pizza place a couple of years earlier. He also liked feeling like he was part of some grand conspiracy…keeping Jon and Sansa’s relationship lowkey.

“I think it’s great,” he’d told Sansa the second time her and Jon had come there…after Jon had asked her out on a date in the parking lot after the Winter Gala. “There’s not enough love in the world as it is. And what business is it of anyone else who you date, am I right?”

“Um…right. So, could you maybe make sure not to say anything to anyone, Hot Pie?” Sansa had asked. He was a very sweet young man…but he was a bit chatty. Still, Sansa knew he’d never purposely expose them to anyone else.

Tonight, they held hands under the table and waited for their pizza. They discussed work a bit. They usually kept the topics light during dinner. If they had something serious to discuss, they’d save it for later in Jon’s truck when he’d drive them to some out of the way place where they could talk…or just make out like teenagers.

Sansa smiled to herself at the memory of a few nights ago when they’d been kissing in Jon’s truck and the way he’d whined pitifully when she’d stroked him through his pants. His hot mouth on her neck and sucking at her ear lobe with his hands fondling her breasts through her top…she’d been driven nearly mad with need.

She’d climbed into his lap and started grinding against his erection. His gasps as he held her firmly by her ass cheeks and thrusted in time had made that coiling desire in her belly even worse.

_Gods, definitely like a couple of kids dry humping in his truck. Well…it didn’t stay dry._

It was true they’d both wound up making a mess of their underwear. She couldn’t help it. His thumbs stroking her nipples under her shirt and his hard cock pressed up against her clit. She’d cried out his name and sagged bonelessly against his muscled chest. He’d moaned hers right after…and then muttered a curse.

“I just fucking…shit,” he’d mumbled. She laughed softly and kissed him again before apologizing for causing him any embarrassment. “Nah,” he’d sighed. “Never apologize for that. I just feel like a green boy right now is all.”

Once their steaming hot pie arrived, Jon carefully served them both slices and asked Sansa if Xaro Daxos had decided to build his factory in Winterfell yet.

“No…I don’t believe that will be happening,” she said disdainfully as her lustful mind was recalled to less pleasant matters. Jon raised his eyebrows in question and she continued in a whisper. “Petyr supposedly vetted him but I did a little digging on my own with Jeyne’s help. Daxos is involved in some rather nefarious dealings in Essos apparently. Naturally, over there no one seems to care but I cannot in good conscience work to bring someone to Winterfell who owns pillow houses in Lys, illegally peddles Shade of the Evening in Braavos and even has ties to the black-market slave trade that still exists in Asshai.”

“I’d think not,” Jon scowled.

“And it’s whispered that he even uses child labor in some of his factories back in Qarth.”

Jon’s fist clenched with rage but his voice was steady when he asked, “And Mr. Baelish wanted you to work with this man? I thought he was interested in seeing you advance in politics. Does he not realize ties to someone like that would seriously damage your image if it were discovered?”

“I’m sure Petyr will claim he didn’t know.”

“And do you trust him?”

“I’m beginning to think that only a fool would trust Petyr.” Jon’s eyes softened, hearing the note of regret in her tone. _I was that fool_. “I don’t know what Petyr thinks sometimes. He certainly seems to operate by his own set of rules,” she huffed irritably.

Jon clasped her hand sympathetically but she decided to change the topic. She’d have to do something about her Chief of Staff eventually at the rate things were going but tonight…she didn’t want to think of him.

“So, how about you tell me about this cookoff you’re planning?” she prompted and dug back into her pizza.

The guys at the firehall were doing a chili cookoff to raise money for the homeless shelter on Saturday. Jon had come up with the idea and organized it with Sam’s help. Sansa volunteered to help and contribute her own pot of chili. They laughed over the antics of Grenn and Pyp and he told her about the group of new recruits he’d hired, three of whom were females.

“It’s a start at least,” he said.

When the check arrived, Jon grabbed it before she could argue and asked if she wanted to go for a drive to the Wolfswood Park Trailhead. It was one of their favorite make out spots. His eyes were alight with desire and he’d grasped her hand in his again.

“No, not tonight I’m afraid,” she said solemnly…and then giggled at the way his face fell. He looked hurt and confused by her giggling. “Tonight, I’d rather go somewhere else with you,” she said with a mischievous look.

 

* * *

 

 

“I feel like a kid again being snuck into a girl’s room,” he laughed as she opened the front door to her parents’ old house.

“Did you spend a lot of time getting snuck into girls’ rooms as a kid, Jon Snow?” she asked with a knowing grin.

“Maybe a bit,” he answered honestly. “But this is way better,” he said next as she locked the door behind them and he pulled her into his arms for a passionate kiss.

He couldn’t believe she’d invited him here. And he still couldn’t believe she’d told him to stop at the pharmacy.

“Unless you’re already prepared,” she’d said with a smirk.

“Um…no,” he’d squeaked before dashing inside to buy a pack of condoms. _Like a fucking kid again_.

Her lips were hungry on his own and she moaned into his mouth when he slid his tongue in her mouth. Sansa tasted like the peppermints tonight…like the ones Hot Pie kept by the cash register. She always tasted good anyway. He hoped he didn’t taste too much like green peppers and onions.

He walked her to the wall and pressed her up against it. His hands were at her waist and hers were grasping his shoulders through his shirt. He kissed his way over to her ear and the down her neck to her pulse point. He sucked lightly there until Sansa ground her pelvis into his own.

“Sansa…” he groaned, pulling back to look her in the eye. “I want you.”

She leaned forward and hummed softly into his ear. She wound her fingers through his hair and whispered, “I want you, too.” His hands came up from her waist to cup her breasts and she shook her head. “There’s plenty of bedrooms in this house,” she said teasingly.

“Right,” he chuckled before he followed her down the hall and up the large staircase to the third door on the right.

The room held a queen-sized bed with a lovely grey and white duvet. The furniture was a dark cherry color and there was a lamp that she turned on, bathing the room in a soft, pinkish light.

“Was this your room as a kid?” he asked looking around.

“It was…but I did a bit of redecorating lately,” she said as she took the pharmacy bag from his hand he’d been clutching like a life line and set it on the nightstand.

“You did? Lately?” he gulped. “For…for us?”

She nodded sweetly and his heart melted. She’d fixed up a place for them, a place they could be alone together, a place they could make love in privacy away from town.

“The house is a good way out of town. The drive way is long and winding, well off the road so no one could drive by and notice who’s cars are here. No one really knows I still come here. No one that would talk about us anyway. I thought here…we could just be…”

“Just be us,” he finished.

“Exactly,” she breathed. “Not Chief Snow and Mayor Stark...just Jon and Sansa.”

“Sansa…I…”

He didn’t finish. He just pulled her close. He would say it soon enough but for now he’d just show her instead.

They stared heatedly at each other for several seconds, breathing hard with their mouths less than six inches apart. He wasn’t sure who leaned in first but they were soon devouring each other with lips, tongues and teeth.

Sansa started unbuttoning his shirt and he did the same for her blouse. His cock was already achingly hard and this hungry undressing of each other was making that worse.

Once free of their shirts, Sansa’s hands worked clumsily at his belt. He pushed them away and quickly divested himself of his pants. He left his boxers on for the moment though…which were clearly mirroring a tent at the moment. He didn’t care though because he could barely take his eyes off Sansa.

Her soft ivory skin looked like cream with just a sprinkling of freckles here and there. Her hair was down around her shoulders and her pale pink bra was so feminine, tasteful and elegant...like Sansa. He wondered what he’d ever done to deserve being here with a goddess like her.

Jon slid a finger under the strap and let it slide off her shoulder before he leaned in to tenderly kiss that shoulder. She felt her hands go to his hair, tugging just a bit. He planned on her tugging it much harder before the night was through.

She turned and said, “Unzip me?”

He unzipped her grey skirt at the back and let it whisper down her thighs and puddle on the floor. She stepped out of her plain black pumps, bringing her down to his height.

He was fixated on her lovely, rounded ass but then snorted when he noticed her panties, pink with little red flames all over them.

“Are they supposed to look like…”

“Yeah,” she laughed as she looked over her shoulder at him. “I, uh…thought of you when I saw them. I knew I had to buy them.”

“Am I supposed to put out a fire?” he joked.

“No,” she said with a sinful pout, “You set me on fire, Jon.”

He groaned and spun her back to face him, attacking her mouth again for more kisses before his hands worked their way to her bra. He only fumbled a bit as he unclasped it. She let it drop to the floor beside the rest of their clothes and he saw her beautiful breasts for the first time, an ideal handful with lovely pert nipples begging to be laved and sucked.

“Gods, you’re fucking perfect,” he said before he leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth.

She moaned and sighed his name as he worshiped each breast. The skin of her chest, neck and face flushed a lovely pink, lovelier than her bra or panties.

_Speaking of panties…_

He moved his hands to her hips to push those off of her, too. He knelt before her, grasping her hips again to pull her closer as he gazed at the patch of light auburn curls covering her mound. He kissed her thigh, right next to those curls and she trembled. He lifted his eyes to her face and saw her blue eyes, darkened with longing now, staring down at him. He nudged her thighs apart and gave her a tentative swipe with his tongue.

“Jon…” she moaned.

The way she said it…he never wanted her to stop saying his name.

He licked and teased her clit with his tongue and moved his hands to her ass. Her skin was unbelievably soft, like the pedal of a delicate flower. She felt so warm and so right.

He noticed the way her knees were shaking and stood. Her eyes were dazed but she held onto him tightly when he lifted her in his arms and carried him to the bed.

“You’re strong,” she murmured.

“I guess I am.”

“But gentle,” she said next, her eyes full of tender sweetness.

“That, too,” he agreed before he kissed her softly. “Lie back, love,” he said as he stretched her long, lean form out across the bed. She did as he said. “Where was I?” he asked next with a wicked grin.

“You were…down there,” she said, blushing once more for him.

“Aye…that’s right.”

Sansa writhed beneath him as he licked and sucked at her clit. She clasped her breasts and gasped as he tongued and fingered her to an orgasm. She screamed out his name and he didn’t stop. He just worked to bring her to another. He lapped at her cunt languidly as she caught her breath after the third.

“Jon,” she beckoned, opening her arms wide.

He crawled up her body and kissed her soundly on the lips, wondering if she minded the taste of herself on him any more than the taste of green peppers and onions. Personally, Jon would argue that nothing tasted finer than Sansa.

He reached for a condom from the night stand as her hand closed over his cock. She only stroked him twice before he grunted and shook his head.

“I’m too close,” he said gruffly.

He rolled the condom down his cock and looked into her eyes. She spread her legs wider beneath him and ran her hands up and down his upper arms.

“Yes,” she said.

He centered himself at her folds and pushed forward inch by inch.

“Fuck…you’re so tight, love.”

She moaned in response, rolling her hips as she chanted in his ear, “More, Jon. More.”

He slid all the way in, basking in the glorious feeling of Sansa wrapped around him. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, allowing them to adjust to each other.

Sansa swept her legs around his waist and he took that as his sign to move. His thrusts were slow at first but Sansa was kissing his shoulder and his neck and he couldn’t focus on going slow for long. His hips started pumping more rapidly. The slickness of her tight walls stroking his cock and bringing him closer and closer to that release his body longed for.

“Sansa… _unnn_ …you’re so…good, baby. I… _uhhh_ …I can’t…”

“Don’t hold back,” she urged. “I’m going to come again, Jon. Your cock feels so good inside me.”

Her words spurred him on. “Yeah? Are you… _ohhhh_ , fuck…are you gonna come…shit, Sansa…” he panted, “on my cock…my beautiful girl?”

“I am…I am…oh, gods, Jon!” she shouted. “I’m coming… _urrr_ …I’m…YES! YES! YES!” she sobbed as she climaxed.

“Fuck! I can feel it…oh, Sansa…I can feel your pussy… _unnn_ …gripping me so tight…you’re… _ahhhh_!” he roared as he came.

They lay together on top of her duvet, glistening with sweat, the musk of their lovemaking hanging heavily in the air. Sansa shivered as they started to cool down. They climbed beneath the covers after Jon disposed of the condom.

“Can we just stay here all night?” he asked.

Sansa didn’t answer. She just burrowed into his chest, her hand lightly stroking his arm again. He knew they’d need to head home before too long but he would keep her here as long as he could manage it.

“A little while longer at least?” he asked next.

“Yes,” she said. “We can hide away here for a while together.”

He brought his hand up to lace their fingers together and looked at her. “Here…we’re just Jon and Sansa,” he said. She nodded and smiled. “Sansa…I love you,” he said next.

Her eyes filled with tears and he worried he’d said the wrong thing until she said, “I love you, too.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sansa looked over the information in her hands, unable to believe it and yet not a bit surprised.

“He knew Baelish in Kings Landing years ago,” Jaime said as he passed over the portfolio. “He didn’t know Bolton as well but…he gave me what he could.”

He studiously avoided looking at Jon or commenting on the fact Jon wore nothing but his jeans and Sansa wore only a robe. Brienne had likely told him to seek her out here at her parents’ old house.

Jaime was in blue jeans and a leather jacket. He looked exhausted, as though he’d been on the road all day. Sansa was ashamed at how she’d accused Brienne and him of spying on her earlier and that shame tripled when she realized what Jaime had been doing on her behalf.

“Jaime…I can’t begin to…”

“It was all Tyrion,” he said, waving her off. “He hates Petyr. He’s got some friends that feel the same. Anyway, I won’t keep you from your evening…” His eyes rose long enough to meet hers and then Jon’s. “But I thought you should know who exactly was behind everything before you faced commission.”

 

The next day, Bronn pulled into the lower level garage at City Hall. No reporters were allowed down here at least. Jeyne and Jaime sat in the back of the Town Car with her. Jaime was freshly shaved and wearing his usual suit jacket to conceal his service weapon.

“I’ve got you notes in order regarding the tax initiative and…” Jeyne said as she nervously shuffled through her messenger bag.

“I don’t think anyone is here for that today,” Sansa chuckled bitterly.

Jaime smiled at her sympathetically and said, “You’re going to do fine.”

Commission had called for an inquiry, a public one. Mayor Stark had been invited to answer a few questions regarding her relations with Fire Chief Snow, questions about nepotism and fraternization with a town employee under her supervision, one with an important position…one she had appointed.

Invited, that was the word that was used. This was far from an invitation though considering that an invitation allowed a person to refuse. Refusing this invitation would be the equivalent of career-suicide for Sansa. And she really was just tired of hiding at this point.

Bronn parked in her reserved spot near the bank of elevators that lead from the garage to more public areas. Brienne was waiting for them…and she was not alone.

He was in his dress uniform and had his hat tucked under his arm. He’d pulled his hair back and had used some sort of gel to make it all sleek, not a hair out of place. Such a difference from last night when she’d carded her finger through those soft curls as they laid in bed together. He looked handsome either way.

“So, you’re not letting me fall on my sword and resign?” he’d laughed as she’d nestled into his arms last night after sex and before Jaime had shown up.

“No, they’d still want answers and you’re the best person I can name for the post…except for maybe Yara,” she’d said. He’d smile at that and nodded in agreement. “Besides…you told me I was persuasive.”

“You are. I hate for you to have to deal with this tomorrow though.”

“It’ll be fine,” she’d hummed, tucking her hand in his.

Safe and loved in Jon’s arms. That was all that had mattered last night. She’d need to hold on to that feeling in the coming hour.

Sansa climbed out of the car and greeted Brienne before walking over to Jon.

“Are you ready for this?” Jon asked, coming to stand next to her after she punched the button to go up and face the music.

Sansa patted down her bun, adjusted her jacket, squared her shoulders and said, “Ready.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Two weeks before the news breaks...**

 

She’d laid it all out before them, her grand plans…the tax initiative that could bring wonderful changes to Winterfell…if they’d agree to it.

 _And now come the questions_.

She was prepared. She’d done her research and with Jeyne’s help she’d compiled a list of possible questions or issues the commissioners might want to address. She could do this. She would win them over and Winterfell’s people and the town would benefit from it.

Commissioner Dustin, one of Sansa’s most vocal critics, cleared her throat and started to speak.

“Sansa!” Jeyne cried urgently, rushing into the middle of the commission meeting with her cell phone in her hand.

“Yes?” she said in surprise. Jeyne would never ordinarily interrupt any meeting over a phone call, let alone such an important one. But when Jeyne whispered the news that she’d brought in her ear, Sansa’s blood ran cold. “I’m so sorry,” she said to Commissioner Royce, the chairman. “There’s a been an…I’ve got a personal emergency and I’m afraid I need to leave.”

“Of course, Madam Mayor,” he said, rising to his own feet as she stood. “We can always reconvene. I’m certain that several of us would like a chance to look over your proposal and have an opportunity for Q and A before we make any decisions anyway.”

He was old-fashioned but in a very gentlemanly way. And, he had been very supportive of her and her administration. The other commissioners followed his lead and waited till she left to resume their seats and their other business.

“Where is he?” she asked Jeyne frantically as she rushed towards the elevators that would lead her to the garage and Bronn.

“New Gift Memorial,” Jeyne replied.

“Sansa!” Petyr called from down the hall, chasing her down. “Where are you going? You just left in the middle of a…”

“I have to go to the hospital,” she said. “It’s a personal…”

“Sansa,” he tsked. “Is this about our illustrious fire chief and that warehouse fire over on Main?”

“How did you…”

“I was getting notifications on my phone while you were discussing your tax initiative.”

She did not fail to notice the way he said _your_ tax initiative. Petyr had not been fond of this plan from the beginning. It didn’t matter. She was mayor and he was her chief of staff. He would support her…at least publicly.

He came closer and put his hand on her shoulder. “You can’t run off now, sweetling…just because your boyfriend is injured.”

He squeezed her shoulder and guided her away from Jeyne. It was not a friendly touch. It was aggressive. He was attempting to manage her.

“Let go of me!” she said sharply.

She started to deny Jon was her boyfriend but that didn’t matter now…and it would be a lie regardless. She was tired of hiding their relationship but she’d been afraid of declaring it openly. They’d been so happy the past several weeks. She knew Jon was ready to move beyond secret rendezvouses but she was still nervous about any potential fall-out.

_Now is not the time to discuss it anyway._

Petyr’s mouth was twisted into a sneer. He was angry. Why exactly he was angry, Sansa was not sure but she knew this would be easier with his help than without it. Sansa decided a different approach was needed and threw on her most courteous mask.

“Commissioner Royce was very understanding but I do feel bad for leaving like that. However, our fire chief and two of his fellow firefighters have been injured in the line of duty, Petyr. It’s appropriate for me as mayor to go and visit them at the hospital, don’t you think? And if I choose to consider it a personal matter, I don’t believe that is any cause for concern.” She forced a friendly smile to her lips and said, “I could really use your help though. Would you be so kind as to return to the meeting? Perhaps you could answer any questions on my behalf since we’ve spent so much time discussing _my_ initiative.”

Arguing about it might have been a better term but Petyr had conceded to all her points at last and admitted her plan was a good one. And he’d promised to stand behind it and back her. It just meant a bit less in tax breaks for the sort of voters Petyr was interested in serving…the wealthy.

“Of course, Sansa,” he said with a half-smile in return.

It did not meet his eyes but she knew she had him there. He liked the idea of her needing him…needing his help. And he was always anxious to speak on her behalf.

He headed back down the hall and Sansa motioned for Jeyne to wait. A small part of her felt some guilt about this but she needed to find out how far she could trust him or if she could trust him at all.

“Go back in there, Jeyne, but stay towards the back. Write down anything that he says about my proposal…or anything else.”

Jeyne nodded and turned to head back into the assembly hall.

 

Thirty minutes later, Sansa arrived at the hospital that was swimming with emergency personnel, firefighters and a few reporters as well. She picked up what bits of information she could from Sam Tarly and the media.

Umber Manufacturing’s enormous supply warehouse had caught fire around 4AM. Arson was suspected. The firefighters had been on the scene for hours fighting the tremendous blaze. Three had been injured when a portion of the roof had caved in unexpectedly, including Jon. They were all lucky to be alive.

Sansa fought to keep any tears from falling in the hallway outside his room as Sam held her hand and told her not to worry.

“Don’t worry, Mayor. I’ve worried over Jon for years but…the Chief is tough. So are Yara and Grenn. They’re going to be alright.”

He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Sansa. She smiled at him all the same.

Cotter Pyke, the Police Chief, was there and said they had a witness, a homeless man that had seen two men fleeing from the area in the predawn hours. They had a make and model of the vehicle the pair left in but no tags and only a brief description; two white men, in their late twenties maybe, dark hair.

Surprisingly, Roose Bolton was there, too. He greeted Sansa cordially as he usually did but his strange pale eyes were busy taking in everyone and everything.

“What brings you here, Madam Mayor?” Roose asked.

“Three of our town’s firefighters have been injured,” she replied with a stoicism she hoped her father would’ve approved of. “I wanted to check on them. Is that what brings you here, Mr. Bolton?” She highly doubted that.

“Of course…our fearless boys deserve our sympathy and concern.”

“Yara Greyjoy is a woman,” Sansa corrected before she saw a doctor leave the room where Jon supposedly was only to be swarmed by firefighters asking after their chief and their fellow firefighters.

“Yes…my mistake. I was also curious to hear about the blaze. Mors Umber may be ruined, they say.”

“I’m sure he’s got insurance,” Sansa said dismissively. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about Umber’s business. She did but human lives mattered more.

“I heard he’d got behind on his payments,” Roose muttered under his breath.

Sansa turned to look at him and ask him why he cared when she saw it plainly. Umber was a business rival. Bolton Electronics and Umber Manufacturing sold several of the same products. Umber’s loss was Roose’s gain. Of course.

Roose wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Pyke…and listening to what the chief was telling his officers about the homeless man, the witness.

_Why is he here? He could gloat at home about Umber’s misfortune._

Sansa felt a sudden chill of intuition as she wondered who had started the fire and who the homeless man had seen.

“Mayor?” Sam said coming up to her. Sansa jumped, almost afraid someone could read the thoughts forming in her head. She shook her head, trying to dismiss them as too far-fetched when Roose politely moved away. “Jon’s awake,” he said. His voice dropped to a whisper. “The doctor said he’s asking for you.”

“I’ll be right there,” she replied. But first, Sansa walked over to Cotter Pyke and said, “Make sure your witness is safe, Chief.”

The gruff old cop smiled at her and said, “Yeah…all things considered, I was thinking of putting him up in one of our safe houses. The poor fellow could use a bed and three squares for a bit anyway.”

“Thank you.”

The firemen parted like the sea before Sansa as she walked down to the room indicated. The doctor told her what to expect. She planned to visit Yara and Grenn too but right now, she needed to see him. She braced herself before she pushed the door open.

The scent of smoke lingered in the air. He’d not had a shower to wash it away and it clung to his hair and skin. She’d smelled that scent on him once or twice when she’d seen him after he’d been at a scene. He’d always been meticulous about showering though before they did more than talk.

He was bare from the waist up. His shoulder was badly bruised from falling beams. His face bore scratches and bruises as well. He was still groggy from pain medication she’d been told. He wore an oxygen mask. He’d inhaled a good deal of smoke but no permanent damage was done, at least no more than any firefighter dealt with. The mask obscured part of his face but he was still aware of her the instant she walked into the room.

“Jon,” she said softly as she grasped his hand, “how are you?”

His eyes were bloodshot from the smoke and other irritants when they opened. He slowly tugged the mask down enough to answer hoarsely, “I could be better.”

She grimaced at his feeble joke and kissed his brow. His eyes moved down to the bed and back up to her face. She gingerly perched on the edge of the small bed, carefully avoiding the various tubes and monitors. He was going to be alright. The doctor had said he might be released the next day to finish recovering at home. It still didn’t stop her from becoming emotional.

“Shush, love,” Jon croaked, not wishing to see her cry. “I’m okay.”

“I love you. I love you so much. I couldn’t stand to lose you, Jon.”

Sansa leaned forward and rested her forehead against his, her nose resting against the mask. Jon tugged the mask aside again. His lips were moist when he touched them to hers.

The door opened unexpectedly and Sansa jerked back with a slight yelp.

“I’m sorry, Chief,” Alliser Thorne said, coming in.

He was still in most of his gear and covered with grime. If she smelled smoke when she entered the room, it was as though someone had brought a fireplace into the hospital now.

He glanced at Sansa and then swiftly directed his eyes towards Jon.

“Tarly said you wanted to know when the fire was completely out.”

“I did,” Jon said. “Thank you, Alliser. Can you help Sam handle the reporters and such?”

Thorne nodded and said he would.

Jon put his mask back in place and Sansa wiped her eyes. She could feel the older man’s stare. She knew exactly what he was seeing and what he might think.

She could stand up and say she was worried about her firefighters. She could feed him a line of bullshit about her duty as mayor to be concerned about the welfare of her employees. She could easily call Jon her friend and explain away her tears that way.

She didn’t. She just sat there with her face averted, still holding Jon’s hand. She was so very tired of hiding. She didn’t think she could go on like this much longer…but how did they come out and declare it? And would this man in particular think she chose Jon for the chief’s job over him because of an amour?

It was too much to deal with today with Jon lying in the hospital bed, injured and lucky to be alive.

 _Another day…I’ll deal with this another day. Not today. Today, let us just be Jon and Sansa a little longer_.

“Get some rest, Chief,” Thorne said gruffly. She heard the door open and close again as he left.

“Sansa…” Jon started to say, just as her phone chimed.

She stood and blew her nose, looking for a distraction. She checked her phone and got one.

**Jeyne: I hope Jon is alright. As soon as you can, you need to call me. You will not fucking believe this.**

 

* * *

 

 

“Sansa, please!” Petyr cried. He looked near tears but she wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. “I have watched over you and guided you since you were little more than a girl! I have dedicated the last…”

“You undermined me. You’ve betrayed me. You’ve lied to me,” she said with a calm she did not feel.

“Everything I’ve done has been about teaching you, helping you make the right decisions and making you a better politician. The people don’t want some soft-hearted girl as Wardeness. The Warden of the North must be strong and…”

“I’m not Wardeness, Petyr. I’m the Mayor of Winterfell…and that is enough for me. You’ve been working with Commissioners Karstark and Dustin behind my back to see to it my tax initiatives never happen. You encouraged me to work with that awful Daxos character for your own financial gain…”

“It would’ve benefited you as well!”

“No, Petyr. I wasn’t looking for that and you know it. Everything you do is ultimately about you. You might lie to me and to yourself about how devoted you are. You might claim you had good intentions but there’s little you do that doesn’t come back to what’s best for Petyr.”

“That’s not true! Sansa…I love you,” he said then.

She gasped at his admission but couldn’t say she was truly shocked.

“I'm sorry…but I don’t think you really know what love is, Petyr,” she said, not without pity for in his own twisted way perhaps he did love her. “Please, box up any personal affects you wish to take with you now and go. The rest of your things will be sent to you. Brienne,” she called.

Brienne moved from the corner and gave him a warning look. Petyr was still staring at her, still hoping she’d change her mind. Sansa clasped her hands behind her back to hide the way they were shaking. She bowed her head. This had not been easy for her…but it had been necessary. _And a long time coming_.

“Mayor Stark told you to get your things and go,” Brienne said firmly. “I’ll be escorting you to your vehicle, Mr. Baelish.”

Once they’d left the room, she collapsed into her chair, saddened and shaken. Jeyne crept in and brought her some tea.

“You alright?” she asked meekly.

“I will be,” she replied.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes…but Jon’s probably resting at the hospital and there’s still work to be done today.”

 

* * *

 

 

Twelve days later, Jon returned to the station. The doctor had released him for desk duty. Jon hated it but conceded that he was fortunate to be back regardless. Yara was already back on the job. Her injuries had not been serious. Grenn was improving but still at home for another week or so. All three of them were quite lucky, Jon knew.

The investigation into the arson had dried up. The crime scene evidence showed that it was clearly arson but the police were no closer to an arrest. Their eyewitness only saw two white men flee the scene in a late model vehicle…not a lot to go on.

He had other matters to attend to though and he tried to focus on those…and Sansa. He had Sansa to think of, too.

He was grateful that she’d fired Baelish and glad that Jeyne had been there to witness his two-faced lies and crafty manipulations that he tried to pull in Sansa’s absence with the commission. But he worried. A man like Baelish didn’t like direct confrontations but Jon didn’t think he’d go away quietly either.

There’d been rumors of Roose Bolton’s involvement in the Umber fire. His son Ramsey had a juvenile charge for arson that had been buried years ago, Pyke had told Jon. But no proof. Roose had a solid alibi in his wife and his butler. He swore that his son was home in bed when the fire happened. His wife and servant parroted his words.

A little past six, Jon rose from his desk with a groan. He was stiff from sitting most of the day but still felt soreness when he moved. He was improving though…and tonight he planned to have Sansa to himself. Just him and Sansa alone at the Starks’ old house.

 _That’ll require working some sore muscles_ , he thought with a grin. I _can always pop an Advil afterwards_.

He said goodnight to Thorne and Edd who were in charge of the night shift.

He’d made it to his truck when his phone chimed with a text from Sansa.

**Sansa: I can’t meet with you tonight.**

**Jon: Why?**

**Sansa: Something happened.**

**Jon: Talk to me.**

**Sansa: Can you call me?**

He pulled out his phone and did just that. She was out of breath when she answered. It was immediately clear that she was afraid.

As soon as he hung up, Jon tore out of his parking place and headed straight to her house in town. They’d agreed not to go to each other’s homes. They’d said it was too likely their vehicles could be spotted or they might be seen. They’d said it was best to avoid questions.

But Jon was sick of hiding their relationship. He’d keep it up as long as she said but he really wanted to just come out and be open with everyone. He loved her. She loved him. They shouldn’t have to hide it forever.

And right now, he couldn’t worry over what people might think of them. Not after that sick son of a bitch had frightened her, threatened her. He’d not said anything too direct of course. Ramsey was just smart enough not to do that. But he’d rattled her. He’d scared her. He’d waited for Brienne and Jaime to be elsewhere and cornered her alone.

She’d said Brienne was coming over to her place later but that wasn’t good enough for Jon.

Sansa opened the door and her mouth twisted into a tight smile. He could see she was half annoyed with him for showing up after she’d said not to come, not to worry. He could also tell she was relieved.

“May I come in?” he asked.

She held the door open wider and he walked into her house for the first time.

After they’d discussed her strange and nerve-rattling encounter with Ramsey Bolton on the elevator of Town Hall, she’d agreed to discuss it with Pyke the next day. He told Sansa he was spending the night and she didn’t argue. He had her call Brienne and tell her to stay home tonight.

Then, he carried her up to her bed and made love to her.

"I'm still healing," he laughed huskily.  Her cheeks were still a lovely pink from where he'd told her to ride him. 

"You seemed to have no trouble carrying me up the stairs."

"I wore myself out.  Come on, beautiful," he prompted.  "I want to watch you ride me tonight."

She'd done just that, her hips moving in perfect time with his thrusts.  His beautiful girl, naked as her name day, astride him and crying out his name as she climaxed while he suckled her breasts…both of them completely unaware of the man and his camera in the tree outside her bedroom window.

 

* * *

 

 

Petyr was drowning his miseries in drink which was a shame. He knew the political scene well. He knew how to sway the right kind of voters. Roose’s last chief of staff had been rather disappointing…the hazards of hiring one of his wife’s idiot brothers.

Petyr was very clever and could help set his career back on track. There were far more prestigious posts calling his name than the dinky little post of Mayor of Winterfell.

When Roose had approached him after his firing, he’d been a bit suspect naturally. They’d circled each other like two wary cats.

But Roose had said just the right thing when he’d hinted at the mayor’s interesting friendship with the town’s fire chief.

Alliser had been a bit disappointing there. Whatever the man’s thoughts on the matter, he’d not shared anything tangible with Roose.

But he’d been suspicious since he’d seen her at the hospital that day. And she’d been a bit too suspicious of his reasons for being there.

Once Jon Snow was brought up…all that bile Petyr had been storing away came spewing forth. He was convinced they’d been involved in an affair, maybe since the Winterfell Gala…maybe longer. He just didn’t have any evidence of it. He’d been on her side after all and though he’d been jealous of the young fireman, he’d not wanted to hurt Sansa…not then.

Roose wasn’t afraid of playing dirty whether it came to business or politics…but he was good at keeping his hands clean. He wasn’t so sure that this plan of Petyr’s was the best. Men who were acting from emotion didn’t always behave rationally, Roose had found. But it wasn’t a terrible plan.

The little hussy shouldn’t have tried to keep her dirty secret a secret for so long but she was still young. She hadn’t yet learned that dirty laundry rarely stayed secret forever.

Her noble fool might try and resign but it was Sansa Stark he hoped to see step down. Starks were stubborn but Petyr said she was a soft-hearted girl. A sex scandal…she’d be ashamed. Maybe ashamed enough to go away…or at least lose all her political gravitas.

He’d give it a go. And if it all fell apart…he could always lay the blame at Petyr’s feet.

His phone rung and he picked it up, ignoring Petyr who was sobbing over his whiskey in the corner.

“Yes?”

“It’s done, Father.”

“And?”

“She was shaking when I left her.”

“And the chief?”

“Oh, he rushed right to her…just like we’d hoped.”

“Proof?”

“It was quite a performance I got to witness."  Roose rolled his eyes at his son's deviance and waited for him to get to the point.  "I’ll bring it over tomorrow. Unless you want me to send it on in.”

“No. We’ll give a couple of days but then…our lovely Madam Mayor will make headlines.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

_“I wish I’d never said anything! I didn’t mean to cause trouble!” the girl cried as she sat on her bright pink bedspread._

_“Robb made a stupid choice, sweet one. I know he’s still a boy and dreams of adventure…but he could’ve been killed. His friends could’ve been killed, too.”_

_“It wasn’t his idea!” she exclaimed, defending her brother despite everything._

_“I know that. But he went along.”_

_“I couldn’t bear for him to get hurt. That’s why I told you. But…it’s hard,” she wept as her father laid a gentle hand upon her shoulder. “He hates me now.”_

_“He may be angry, Sansa…but Robb will forgive you.”_

_“I only told the truth,” she sobbed. “Now, Robb won’t even look at me.”_

_“Your brother is ashamed of what happened. He’s ashamed of what could’ve happened. He’s ashamed he was caught. And he’s ashamed of the lies he told your mother and me about studying at his friend’s house when they were jumping off the rocks at the old quarry. He can’t even look himself in the mirror right now,” Ned Stark said to his daughter. “None of that is your fault.”_

_The bed squeaked as he sat down next to her. He ran his hand through her hair affectionately. He pulled her into a hug as she cried._

_When she’d exhausted her tears, he cupped her face and said, “Sansa…you made a choice to tell the truth. You did the right thing. Doing the right thing and telling the truth are not always easy. Many times, it’s easier to lie or to ignore the truth and do what we please. Why do you think so many people do it? It takes courage to tell the truth when lies are easier. I’m proud of you, my daughter. You were very brave.”_

_Sansa looked up at her father’s grey eyes that were as soft as smoke. “You think I’m brave?” she asked._

_No one had ever said that about her before. She was ten but she still called for her mother when she had bad dreams at night. She was afraid of spiders and scary movies. She yelped at loud noises. Robb and Arya would laugh that she was a scaredy-cat. She would never have been brave enough to jump off the high rocks of the abandoned quarry to the water below._

_She stared at her father tremulously, waiting to be told that he’d meant to use another word, something other than brave._

_“I know you are, love,” her father answered._

 

* * *

 

 

**The Hearing**

 

Just as she had requested, Jon found a place towards the back of the assembly hall to stand. Sansa didn’t want him front and center as she dealt with the questions hurled her way.

“Let them ask me the questions. They haven’t asked you to come answer anything so let’s not allow them the chance to start quizzing you,” she’d said on their way up from the garage.

“Are you afraid I’ll say the wrong thing?”

“No. I’m more afraid of you losing your temper, Jon,” she’d smirked. She must have noticed the contrite expression on his face then for she’d added, “I like your temper just fine. But let’s not give them any more fuel for the fire.”

“Ha. Ha,” he’d deadpanned. “Fuel for the fire.”

“Did that arson investigator ever get back to you?”

“No. I forwarded the relevant information Lannister gave you to him. He sounded like he might have something good to share when I checked in earlier but he’s not called back yet,” he’d answered.

Donal Noye was an old buddy from the military. Actually, he’d sort of taken Jon under his wing when he joined and Jon respected the older man immensely. He had also first peaked Jon’s interest in firefighting when they were serving together. He’d lost an arm in the line of duty and retired to become an arson investigator.

Winterfell technically had one already but Bowen Marsh wasn’t infallible. Actually, he’d been making progress initially but had a sudden attack of apathy towards the case. Jon wondered if someone had frightened him off. Someone that liked to frighten people.

_Someone like Ramsey._

That had bothered him since that night when he’d went to Sansa’s. Why had Ramsey shown up at Town Hall and cornered Sansa? Why had he said she might not want to go digging too deep into things that didn’t concern her? The town was her concern and at first, neither of them knew what to make of that. But, Ramsey had made a vague reference to fire.

 _“We shouldn’t play with fire, Madam Mayor,”_ he’d said. _“You have to be careful or you might get burned.”_

Sansa had feared he was making an illusion to their affair but later, it struck them both as odd. Of course, then the scandal had come out soon after and they’d become rather preoccupied with that.

Jon looked around at the assembled commission members. Dustin and Karstark were known to be critical of Sansa. Royce, the Chairman, was normally in her corner. Maege Mormont, his former chief’s sister, would likely hear Sansa out except she’d already said due to her ties with the fire department she might recuse herself. Glover could be wishy-washy. In other words, he had no way of knowing how Sansa might fare today but he sincerely hoped the information Jaime’s brother had provided would help.

A hush fell over the room and Royce quieted the crowd. The room was packed with far more concerned citizens than he’d ever seen here.

 _Far more worried about our sex life_ _than your children’s schools or how your tax dollars are spent_ , he thought bitterly.

Perhaps that wasn’t completely fair but he was still angry about this whole thing.

He saw Roose Bolton sitting up towards the front. The former Mayor of Winterfell and ‘concerned citizen’ looked at ease as he spoke with another man that Jon didn’t recognize right away. However, when the business man from Qaarth turned his head, Jon nearly did lose his temper.

 _Bold fuckers. Right fucking here and you think you’re untouchable_.

Jon looked at Bolton again as his heart started pounding with the adrenaline rush and the fury sparked white hot across his entire body. He decided Sansa might’ve had a point about him staying towards the back.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to begin,” Royce announced. “Madam Mayor, we truly appreciate you coming to speak with us today,” he said with a civil bow towards Sansa.

“Of course, Mr. Royce,” Sansa said into the microphone that has been placed before her.

“In light of recent information that has been released to the media, we have several questions regarding…”

Jon felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He’d not wished to be disturbed during this but he couldn’t ignore his position either. He expected to see a text from Sam or Edd. Instead, there was one from Noye.

 **Noye: Need you to come to the courthouse. Pyke and I are trying to get a judge’s signature and may need your help**.

Jon read the cryptic message twice and tapped out a reply.

**Jon: Sansa’s having her hearing. I can’t leave now.**

**Noye: This information may impact that hearing.**

Jon replied that he was coming. He looked at Sansa as she was answering the initial barrage of questions with cool courtesy. The courthouse was just across the street. With any luck, he’d be back in twenty minutes. Still, he hated leaving now. He hated being seen leaving as though he was abandoning her. But, there was no choice. If Donal said the information could impact her hearing and him and Pyke needed Jon there, he had to go. He put away his phone and made his way to the exit.

 

* * *

 

 

Royce had lobbed a couple of softballs her way just as she expected. But Commissioner Dustin’s first question was as blunt as she always was.

“When did you start sleeping with Chief Snow? Before or after his appointment to Fire Chief?”

Like a swarm of insects, there was a swelling buzz from the crowd at her back as Sansa answered. “Months after,” she replied in the same crisp tone Dustin had used.

She glanced over her shoulder though and suddenly didn’t feel so crisp. She saw the back of Jon’s head as he exited the assembly hall. A momentary wave of panic snaked through her belly.

_Is there an emergency? Or is he just…leaving? Leaving me here alone?_

_He wouldn’t just leave you_ , her heart answered.

But she was still left feeling bereft by his departure. She could hear the clicking of cameras and the low rumble of the audience. She could see Brienne’s concerned look.

 _Brave. Be brave. Be brave like Jon. Be brave for your father_.

Her eyes fell from the doors that Jon had already disappeared through to find Roose Bolton smirking at her. And right next to him sat Mr. Daxos. Towards the back, Petyr stood alone looking conflicted and lost.

_Fuck you. Fuck all three of you. You made your beds and I hope to see you quite uncomfortable in them._

They wanted to embarrass her. They wanted to humiliate her and make her cower. They wanted to watch her crumble. They would not be getting their wish.

“Mayor?” Commissioner Dustin said sharply, recalling her to the panel of commissioners.

“My apologies,” Sansa said as she sat up straighter and returned her attention to them.

“Very well. So, you’re saying your personal feelings played no role in Snow’s appointment?” Dustin asked next.

“No.”

“And you’re willing to swear under oath that you’ve shown no preferential treatment towards Jon Snow or his department in any way in your capacities as mayor?”

“Certainly not,” she replied as a low, righteous indignation began to build within her _. Mind your own temper, Sansa_. She reached into her bag and pulled out a booklet. “And having reviewed the Revised Town Employee Handbook which was approved by our esteemed commissioners just last year, it appears that personal relationships between co-workers are not forbidden so long as they do not impact an employee’s ability to carry out their duties...”

“I believe you’re overlooking the part about department heads and subordinates,” Commissioner Karstark interrupted.

“I most certainly am not, sir. Will you permit me to finish speaking or did you have an urgent question?” she inquired sharply. The man bowed his head and muttered an apology. “The Handbook also states that personal relationships between a supervisor and a subordinate are to be reported to the department head to see if a transfer is appropriate so that the subordinate is never placed in an undesirable position or left feeling forced to continue a relationship, etcetera.”

“Quite right,” Dustin barked. “And you failed to report your…”

“I beg your pardon but who was I supposed to report my relationship with Jon Snow to exactly, ma’am? The buck stops here. I am the mayor. I work with Commission in my job but the handbook does not name this body as my superior. There’s even a handy flow chart for reference that shows the chain of command. I appear to be at the top. I have no superior unless my love life is of concern to the Warden.”

For half an instant, Dustin smirked…but then drew a breath to reply. However, Sansa did not permit her to speak.

“And who was Chief Snow to report our relationship to? He is the head of his department. The Fire Department is an entity unto itself. In no way do I instruct them how to go about fighting fires. I have no say in who Chief Snow hires or fires within his department so long as he adheres to the guidelines of our human resources department.”

“But you appointed him…”

“Yes, I did. And a damn fine job he does for our town.” Maege Mormont winked at her and Sansa felt a flutter of relief for that at least. “I would also like to call your attention to this next part of the county handbook. It clearly states that appointed positions such as that of fire or police chief are under the purview of the mayor. So, in that sense, I am his boss. However, to protect our hard-working employees in appointed positions, it also says that once appointed, the mayor alone cannot dismiss them.”

Sansa laid down the handbook and looked each one in the eye, letting her gaze linger on Karstark the longest. _We will see how well you like this meeting soon enough_.

“I recall very well having to come before you all several months ago when I asked that Chief Locke be removed from his office as police chief. It took quite a bit of convincing to win some of you over despite the incredible amount of proof of corruption within the department that had been laid before you.”

There was another flurry of humming from the crowd behind her and Karstark looked a bit green around the gills.

“However…in the end, you agreed with me and we have a new police chief. If you had not agreed with me, that would not have happened. So, do you think that Jon Snow has felt coerced into this relationship and that it would negatively impact his position as Fire Chief is we were to cease our personal relationship?”

“Those might be better questions for our chief,” Commissioner Glover said.

“Perhaps so,” Sansa said sweetly…before her eyes hardened and she looked at Karstark again. “However, he is not here at present. But since we are all here, certain information has come to my attention quite recently. And, I have a few matters that I think should be brought to everyone’s attention…”

 

* * *

 

 

Jon wanted to return to the hearing. Twenty minutes had passed and he was dying to know how it was going. He wanted to know if Sansa had brought out her evidence of Petyr’s bribing of Commissioner Karstark on behalf of Mr. Daxos to aid the businessman's efforts in establishing himself in Winterfell. He was curious if she’d got around to naming Bolton in their schemes, too.

All the dirty little dealings of politicians and businessmen behind closed doors to reap a financial reward…it sickened Jon. He had little patience for any of it and he hated that Sansa was waging this battle alone. Jaime’s brother had provided the weapons but still…Sansa was the one fighting.

But there was another kind of battle that Jon could wage. He was a firefighter. He hated arson and arsonists with a passion. And if he could personally help take one of those despicable people down, he would gladly be a part of that.

“Remember, kid,” Noye said next to him in the truck. “Let the cops do their part. We’re just looking for our evidence.”

“Gotcha,” he said as smoothly as he could.

His mind was spinning though, trying to rapidly put together the pieces of this puzzle and hopefully give Sansa some additional firepower.

 _Firepower_ , he scoffed to himself as they approached Roose Bolton’s property.

He couldn’t call her. She’d likely have her phone muted and now wasn’t the time for her to take a phone call anyway. But he could send Jeyne a text and maybe she could get a message to Sansa.

Jon stood back as the butler answered the door and Pyke held up the search warrant.

“What are petroleum distillates?” the man asked, clearly befuddled as the herd of officers swarmed the house and the estate’s outbuildings.

“Accelerants, sir.  They aid in starting and spreading fires,” Noye said politely. “Actually, we’re looking for a very specific accelerant. It’s only manufactured one place in the world. Qaarth. Bolton Electronics received a shipment of it a couple of months ago but there doesn’t seem to be any at the warehouse. It’s a very efficient accelerant for fires. However, it does leave a very specific chemical signature. I’m sure you’ve got nothing to worry about though. So long as you’ve not been covering anything up…” Donal let that linger and the butler looked a bit ill.

“I only do as…look, this is my job and…”

“If you know something,” Jon said quietly, “now would be a good time to come clean. Is this job worth risking your freedom over?”

The butler opened his mouth just as there were shouts from upstairs and more officers followed the sound.

Ten minutes later, Ramsey Bolton was in handcuffs for obstruction of justice and attempting to destroy evidence.

“You might want to take a look at this,” Pyke said as he carried a camera out of Ramsey’s bedroom. “From the way he was fighting us, it was clear he didn’t have the good sense to delete the photos from the SIM card…not that we couldn’t try and get them anyway.”

Jon eyed the camera thoughtfully and decided he didn’t need to see.

“Am I on there?” he asked. He didn’t say Sansa’s name. He felt like it would sully her name to speak it here.

Pyke nodded. “You are…but that’s not all.”

Once Pyke and Noye finished filling him in, he sent Jeyne a text.

**Tell Sansa to call for a recess. We’ve got some very interesting information to share.**

 

* * *

 

 

The expression on Bolton’s face was quite priceless when Pyke entered the assembly hall an hour later with an arrest warrant. He cursed his son as a great fool before closing his mouth and refusing to answer another word as he was led away.

His involvement with Petyr and Daxos wasn’t really all that damning. Tyrion Lannister’s information had only shed so much light on Roose’s dirty dealings. But what Pyke, Jon and his friend had come up with and the things Ramsey had spouted off, those things were evidence of a more serious crime by far.

Mr. Daxos, accustomed to coups in his own country and perhaps suspicious of the sudden call for a recess coinciding with the arrival of several uniformed officers, had not returned after the break. As a foreigner, it would be hard to hold him so Pyke didn’t stop him from getting on a plane and making his way back to Essos.  They would consider if good riddance if he'd just stay gone. 

Petyr had been quiet and looked rather pitiful as he was led away. There was a part of Sansa that felt sad about it. He had sparked her career and taught her many lessons about politics. He had tried to mold her to be like him.  But another man had already molded Sansa Stark many years before and the differences in the moral code and value system of Petyr Baelish and Ned Stark was obvious to anyone with half a brain.

And he had been instrumental in the Boltons’ scheme to discredit and shame her for her affair with Jon.  That was hard to forgive.

She had hard evidence from Lannister of Commissioner Karstark accepting bribes from Petyr more recently and from Bolton over the past several years. But, there was no warrant issued for his arrest…yet. He was busily calling his attorney as the reporters swarmed him.

The media seemed delighted by the prospects of a full-fledged criminal investigation and a new scandal to pursue.

Barbary Dustin looked slightly miffed at the direction the inquiry of Sansa’s sex scandal had taken but then she was quick to call for Karstark’s head…and Bolton’s…and Petyr’s.

 _She’s just got a lot of anger to go around, I suppose_.

“Well, despite this _distraction_ ,” she said irritably once Bolton, Petyr and Karstark were gone, “we were originally brought here today to discuss…”

“Enough of that, Barbary,” Maege Mormont said. “One of our fellow commissioners just ran out of here after being accused of accepting bribes.  So, they’re sleeping together," she said gruffly, gesturing at Jon and Sansa.  "What does it matter?  Jon, do you have a problem with the fact that the woman you’re sleeping with is also our mayor and technically your boss?”

Jon flushed a vivid red but then he grinned and said, “Um, no…not at all, ma’am.”

“Sansa, are you going to use your position as mayor against our fire chief due to any personal conflicts the two of you might encounter over the course of your relationship…for however long it lasts?”

“No, Commissioner.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Royce said. “This meeting is concluded. I need a drink,” he muttered as he banged his gavel.

Sansa rose from her seat and finally allowed herself to smile happily at Jon. She handed Jeyne her notes and told Brienne and Jaime she’d check in later before she walked over to him. She stopped in front of him, not caring about the cameras clicking away or the questions being hurled at them. She’d said all that she cared to say and if anyone wanted to see her out of office, they could certainly try. But she would not go away quietly in shame. And at present, the town seemed to have much larger concerns.

“You were wonderful,” Jon murmured, pulling her into a hug.

Sansa leaned into him for just a moment before straightening. They needn’t be ashamed of loving each other but there was no reason to allow the media access to all their private moments. _Well…not any more of them at least_ , she thought with a slight cringe.

“So were you.  But that was quite taxing and I’m starved now,” she whispered in his ear.

“How about a late lunch at Hot Pie’s?”

“Maybe…but maybe we could get it to go, Chief.”

“An excellent plan, Madam Mayor,” he said.

Jon took her hand and they exited the assembly hall together, doing their best to ignore the journalists that attempted to stop them. Jaime and Brienne walked ahead of them, shielding them from the majority of the onlookers.

Bronn had pulled around out front. “Where to, Madam Mayor?” he called.

“Go home, Bronn,” Sansa said. “I’m taking the rest of the day off. You can head on home yourself once you drop off Jeyne and the others. I’ve got a ride,” she finished with a smile at Jon.

 

* * *

 

 

**Two and a half years later…**

 

Sansa Stark Snow, Mayor of Winterfell, sipped her morning tea and read the headline whilst smiling faintly to herself. It was a restrained sort of smile though and something that she might never feel real joy over. However, the headline held a certain sweetness all the same.

 

_**Winterfell Gazette** _

 

_**Former Mayor of Winterfell Bolton Denied Parole** _

 

Roose had been convicted for Conspiring to Commit Arson in the Umber Manufacturing fire as well as numerous other charges of Bribery and Corruption and had been sentenced to ten-years in prison all told. Word was he wasn’t faring so well in the Big House and had a deathly pallor to him.

Ramsey Bolton had been convicted of the more serious charge of Felony Arson along with some other charges and would’ve been serving a far longer sentence…if he hadn’t attempted a rash escape during his trial which ended with his death at the hands of law enforcement.

His failure to destroy the SIM card that held the pictures of Jon and Sansa had just been one of his many failures to cover his tracks efficiently. He had apparently held onto the pictures because, despite many of them hitting the media, Ramsey had liked having them…all of them…for his own amusement. Sansa still shuddered at the thought.

And while the distributed photos of her and Jon might not ever disappear completely, at least the SIM card in question had been personally destroyed by herself as Jon looked on once the trials were all concluded.

However, there were also photos of Umber’s warehouse on the camera from where Ramsey had cased the target. The eye-witness had identified Ramsey as one of the men he’d seen in the early morning hours before the fire broke out and along with the photos and the evidence found at the Bolton’s estate, the District Attorney had been hard pressed not to smirk when Police Chief Pyke, Fire Chief Snow and Arson Investigator Noye had laid all the evidence on her desk. Roose had put far too much faith in his son.

Commissioner Karstark had received a smack on the wrist and been turned out of office for accepting bribes. He got off easiest but the DA had wanted him to testify in the bribery and corruption charges. The last Sansa had heard, he had moved further north and was forced to take what work he could find.

And Petyr…she still felt bad at times about Petyr. Despite his betrayal, his suicide had still affected her deeply. She had never wanted that. She would never wish that on anyone.

“Good morning, my beautiful girl,” a deep voice said from the kitchen doorway as Jon let himself into the house.

“Good morning, my handsome husband,” she said with a smile as she laid down the paper.

He was coming home after having been on duty the past 24 hours. He looked well rested though and came over to give her a kiss when he noticed the paper.

“You saw it then?” he asked.

“I did.”

Jon smiled at her, a soft, bittersweet sort of smile. He understood how those times had affected her. It had affected him, too. But as he started to open his mouth to speak, there was a great wailing from upstairs.

“Someone’s awake,” she said with a wink.

“So she is,” he laughed. “I’ll go get her.”

“No. Let’s go together.”

They held hands as they climbed the stairs of the old Stark homestead that was a home once more to find their six-month old daughter standing in her crib and crying pitifully to be released. She spied them coming into her room and showed them all three of her teeth as she squealed and raised her arms to be picked up by her daddy.

Jon had stepped down from his duties as fire chief eighteen months ago when they’d married. Not because of any scandal though but because they had both wished to start a family right away and working ten 24-hour shifts a month allowed him to spend the remaining twenty-odd days at home with their child, something that mattered a lot to a man that had never known his own father. And, Yara was an excellent fire chief for Winterfell, they both agreed.  Coincidentally, Aliser Thorne had decided to retire around that time.

“Did you get any sleep the past 24 hours, Mr. Snow?” she asked as she brushed their daughter’s downy, dark curls back from her brow affectionately.

“I did. It was blissfully quiet last night at the station.”

“Blissful? At the station?” she queried dubiously.

“Well…if you don’t count Grenn snoring but I’m used to that,” he chuckled. “Want me to pick up a wedding gift for Brienne and Jaime later today?”

“No, we’ll go shopping tomorrow when we can go together,” she said.

“And, what’s on the agenda for our fair mayor today?”

“A commission meeting, a ribbon cutting…and Jeyne and I are working on the ideas for the Winterfell Festival.”

“You won’t leave out pony rides and snow-cones, will you?”

“Of course not,” she said.

“Well, you can count me and Lyanna in for that, can’t she, little one?” he asked their daughter.

Sansa smiled at them both, too happy to speak at the moment without choking up. Here in her family’s home, in her childhood bedroom, she had everything that truly mattered, her husband and her daughter. She was proud to serve her hometown as mayor but ultimately, it was her family that made her life as rich and meaningful as it was now.

Jon saw the hint of tears in her eyes and grinned at her, knowing her so well now.

“I love you,” he murmured into her hair as he pulled her closer with their babbling daughter between them.

“I love you, too,” she replied happily as she put her arm around his waist and enjoyed embracing her loved ones.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm not aiming to be Tom Clancy or Mary Higgins Clark so therefore I didn't go into too much detail on how all the bad guys were busted. Just pretend Tyrion's packet of information had all the clues/information/evidence they needed. It's like the mysterious suitcase in 'Pulp Fiction.' You're just left wondering about it ;)
> 
> Thanks very much for reading!


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